Objects of Desire
by MusedMoose
Summary: Part 1 of the DreamThorn Trilogy. Crossover with Neil Gaiman's "Sandman." After the duel called Revolution, Utena awakens in the Dreaming. There, she learns there is more to Ohtori, Akio, Anthy, and herself than she ever knew. And where is Anthy?
1. Prologue: Daydream Overture

**Author's Note:** This is, as said in the summary, a crossover with Neil Gaiman's "The Sandman" series. This story takes place after the end of Revolutionary Girl Utena, and between the volumes "A Game of You" and "Brief Lives" in Sandman. Thank you for reading.

* * *

Objects of Desire: Prologue – Daydream Overture

Ohtori Academy lay bare to him, from the forest to the front entrance to the surrounding streets. He knew it all.

Far below, students filtered through the gates, uniforms of green and white to match the mixed architecture, their chatter filling the air. Smiles, laughter; all so familiar, all much the same as it had been every day before.

Past the classrooms, past the athletic fields, toward the center of campus where the tower stood, he looked. An elevator with an elaborate door carried those qualified to ride within to a room halfway up the tower, to a balcony with a view of nearly all of campus. There sat the student council, those he long-ago marked as special and who would remain marked as such until he tired of them, and then they would forget and become ordinary again.

He smiled for the first time in several days. Already they were forgetting what he wished them to.

The council members, four of them these days, held a debate of little importance over minor campus-wide issues concerning clubs and athletic fields. He paid little attention, as he already knew the meeting's outcome. They thought they ruled over Ohtori, that their word was final, that even the teachers and staff would not cross them.

To give youth power over adulthood . . . one of the reasons for Ohtori's existence. Or so he'd decided at the campus's creation. So much had changed since then.

At the true center of campus, at the highest point in Ohtori, Akio stood at the window, looking out over the world he ruled and contemplating how so much had gone so wrong.

How long, he wondered, had it been since he first came here? Since he and his master created the world and he populated it, since the games first began, since he realized the power behind the idea of revolutionizing the world? How long had it been since–

A scowl marred his dark features, and Akio turned from the window. He knew how long it had been.

Merely three days since Anthy walked out the door, out of the tower, and out of Ohtori. Only days since she dared to defy him.

At first, he'd expected her to return, to claim that she was wrong and had made a mistake, to give him that look that said she knew she never could leave. But he heard her voice in his head now, the last words she'd said to him, and bowed his head. Her voice had been different, then. Perhaps with newfound strength, perhaps with hope. Perhaps she was returning to who she'd once been–

Akio looked to his desk in the center of the expansive room. It seemed awkward and out of place near the couches and the planetarium projector, but with the preparations for another duel game already begun, he'd assumed that he would need it. It wasn't an easy task, being the End of the World.

He almost smiled at the thought, then caught sight of something atop the desk, and that desire 's glasses lay where she had set them three days ago. He hadn't touched them. Torn between laughing at himself and being disgusted, he walked to the desk and picked them up, toyed idly with them between his fingers.

How she'd struggled, decades ago, when he'd first put them on her. Such an independent spirit; Anthy had proven difficult to break. The glasses, like much of Ohtori, were his master's idea – a way to subdue a willful girl and bend her to him, to convince her to play the role he had contrived for her.

As Akio's master had once told him, his purpose – and to that effect, Ohtori's greater purpose – was to explore duality. Male and female. Teacher and student. Master and slave. His master was of both sides simultaneously, and had imbued Akio with the ability to control nearly all that occurred within Ohtori's bounds, the better to serve his purpose.

What greater purpose his master wanted in knowing duality, Akio neither knew nor cared. Surely his master must be pleased with him, else he would have learned of it. And when he'd told his master what he wished to explore, Anthy's arrival was all the approval Akio needed.

To understand the ways of prince and princess, of both sides of a betrothal, Akio had been given someone who could be the bride again, and again, and again. All he'd needed to do was convince her to play along.

In time, he thought he had broken her. When she would remove the glasses at his word, and not turn against him or try to escape, he knew that she was his. When she would remove the glasses of her own accord, and held not a thought in her head contrary to what he wished, he knew that the true work could begin, and that the princess would need a prince.

And that prince. . . .

Akio turned and hurled the glasses at the wall, gritted his teeth as the lenses shattered on the stone.

So much done, so much he'd changed Ohtori, all for the duel game. All for the Rose Bride and her Engaged. All to see what his students, his favored students, would do when given the chance to play the prince. It had been quite interesting at times – the drama, the conflict, the duels and the dance of victor and victim. But in the end, the game had ended, and not at his decision.

Perhaps . . . perhaps he was at fault, somehow. Such an elaborate construct, the prince and the witch and the swords, all meshing perfectly with the arena and the duels, all to see what one girl who'd decided half her life ago to become something she could never be.

Or so he'd thought.

Perhaps his master would be proud; he'd surpassed himself in that last game. The thought brought a bitter smile to Akio's face. No, his master would not be pleased, his master would see this as a failure, his master would laugh and fade away as his master often did whenever Akio was found worthy of a visit.

Was it truly his fault? Yes. The answer came as soon as he'd thought of the question. It could be no fault other than his own. He'd not counted upon the girl's independence or resilience; others had played through the game only to learn in the end that a girl could never be the prince. But this time . . . such a difference, and with such an unfortunate result.

When all the swords of hate – he chided himself for such a melodramatic conceit – had come crashing down upon him in the storm of pain and steel that destroyed the dueling arena, he lost consciousness, and for the first time since Ohtori's creation, he likewise lost control. In that moment of absence, the girl was lost, and Anthy found the inspiration to seek her freedom.

It was the first thing that had upset him in decades, the first time in so long that things went against his will.

And now, Ohtori lacked both prince and princess. What was he to do? There could be no duels without the Rose Bride. One dream was gone; the other would not do. And duels must have a victor, someone for all the others to fight against. The last round had gone so well, with the girl winning nearly all of them–

Akio shook his head, once, then turned to his desk and sat down. With only slightly more than a thought, he recreated Anthy's glasses and lay them atop the desk next to his new laptop. A small stack of envelopes, all sealed with red wax stamped with the mark of the rose, sat at the center of the desk. All the messages within them were blank; they would say what he wished them to say depending on the reaction of the recipient.

All was ready for a new game. But with no prize for the winner, what point was there in starting?

He remembered the words of his master, shortly after Ohtori became his: "What you want will be yours. What others want will be yours, and you will choose to give it to them or not. Everything wants. Not everything gets. Start there." And then his master had smirked, and was gone.

What he wanted . . . another prize for the duels. But none here would suit his needs. Even Anthy had come from elsewhere. What he wanted was not here.

"Master," Akio whispered. The word carried a reverence not found in anything else he ever spoke. "I want . . . a new Rose Bride. Or the old one returned. You said I would have what I desired."

Akio waited for a response as the sun traveled across the sky. When evening came and the stars grew visible in the darkening sky, he began to wonder what he had done to deserve being snubbed, and what would happen next, for him and his world.

* * *

A world and more away, Desire floated within the heart of a great monolith in the shape of itself, and knew all that transpired at Ohtori. Desire saw its creation, he who ruled his own tiny world, and felt his frustration, and his unfamiliar sense of doubt.

And Desire knew what had transpired, and Desire considered the consequences, and Desire came to realize what could come of this. And Desire laughed.


	2. Chapter 1: The End

Objects of Desire: Chapter One – The End

The arena shattered around her, and Utena found herself strangely content to fall forever.

It wasn't like her to wallow in self-pity; she knew that. She remembered the time she'd lost the duel to Touga, the way Anthy looked at her when they became nothing but classmates, and she knew she didn't want to fall into that kind of despair again.

All the same, after such a struggle and so much pain, after all she'd done to finally set Anthy free, seeing the other girl's coffin fall into the mist. . . .

Perhaps they would meet on the way down, Utena mused. If they had to fall forever, at least they could fall together. Thinking of Anthy, she felt a shift in the nothingness around her, a strange sense of being pulled along somewhere. And then . . . and then–

Consciousness returned in fits and starts. She became faintly aware of birdsong in the distance, and the rustle of nearby leaves. Something soft lay beneath her, tickling her nose as she breathed. Her entire body ached, and she struggled to open her eyes.

A squirrel stared back at her, its head tilted, as though it wanted to know who she was and what she was doing here.

Utena blinked slowly, peering at the squirrel past strands of pink hair half-covering her eyes, and also started to wonder where she was and what she was doing here. She took a deep breath, gasped and choked at the sudden pain in her side. The squirrel started and ran away, chittering as it went. Struggling to move, Utena reached for her side, and found a tattered hole in her uniform.

Shouldn't it be . . . worse?

She closed her eyes and hoped to wake up. No, it couldn't be a dream; if she was dreaming, it wouldn't hurt this much. But if she wasn't dreaming, shouldn't she be hurt much worse? After all, Anthy had. . . .

Utena managed a deep breath, then bit her lip and managed not to cry. Wherever she was, she was alive. Maybe Anthy was here too. She forced her eyes open again and slowly, slowly made herself sit up.

A forest in full summer's bloom lay spread out before her. She lay on a hill beneath a giant oak tree, its branches reaching out in all directions, soft grass growing all around. A gentle breeze blew, rustling the leaves overhead. In the distance, snow-capped mountains rose, and sunlight sparkled off of a small lake that reflected the cloudless blue sky.

Wherever she was, it was not Ohtori, nor anywhere nearby. "Where am I?" she whispered, then coughed. Her voice had come out weak and ragged, her throat felt dry and raw.

"You, young miss, are in Fiddler's Green."

Utena gasped, turned, and looked.

The man standing beneath the great tree was tall, wide, and wore round glasses and a significant mustache. He dressed as though prepared for something important where he'd have to look his best; the waistcoat and wide-brimmed hat were unlike any clothing Utena had seen within Ohtori's walls. The cane in his hand seemed mostly ornamental, and his smile was kind and sympathetic.

"I'm not sure how you've come to be here, but you are most welcome," the man said, sounding unsurprised at her presence. "Most dreamers these days require something other than. . . ." He trailed off, confusion washing over his face.

"Dreamers?" Utena managed, then coughed again.

"Hoom," the man said, looking a bit troubled. "This may be a matter of some concern, for it seems you are not a dreamer at all. Pray tell, what is your name?"

"Tenjou. Utena Tenjou. Do you--" Another cough. "Do you have any water?"

The man nodded with an odd formality. "Of course, my dear."

The ground next to Utena rippled and lowered, and a tiny spring sprouted in the center, filling the natural bowl. Utena stared for a moment, then cupped her hands and drank. The water cleared her throat, and after a few swallows, she felt she could speak again.

"Where am I?" she asked, feeling less strange about it now that she had someone to ask. "And who are you?"

"You are in Fiddler's Green, Miss Tenjou, as I said. And I am Fiddler's Green, though you may call me Gilbert." He removed his hat and bowed. "A pleasure to make your acquaintance."

"Nice to meet you," Utena said, then paused as she thought about something he'd said. "This place is called Fiddler's Green, and you're Fiddler's Green?" He donned his hat and nodded to her. "How are you . . . a place?"

"Much the same way that you're not, though I would guess the answer is a good deal more complicated than that. If you wish, please call me Gilbert; I've found it makes the idea easier to bear for those not used to this place." He folded his hands before himself, holding his cane between them. "If I may say, you look as though you've been through quite an ordeal, and could use a quiet place to rest."

Utena looked down at herself. Cuts from her duel with Akio marred her uniform's sleeves, the tops of her socks were worn and battered, and her hair hung in limp tangles about her shoulders. She reached for the constant ache in her side, and again felt skin, whole and unwounded, through the hole Anthy's sword had made in her uniform. Utena felt along her back, and found a matching hole on the opposite side.

How had it happened? She'd been – run through; even the thought made her twitch with pain, and she should be far worse off. But aside from the hole, it was as though the wound had never been. How could she have healed so quickly, without even a scar?

"Miss Tenjou?"

Utena blinked, and looked over to see Gilbert peering at her over the tops of his glasses, wearing a worried expression. She gave him a weak smile. "Sorry, I was trying to think of something."

"If you're well enough to walk, there's a glade nearby where you can rest without fear, and my trees provide fruit." He stepped closer and offered his arm. "May I?"

Slowly, Utena got to her feet, stiff muscles cramping and straining in protest. Her knees shook, and she caught Gilbert's arm just before she fell. He was stronger than he looked, and held her with ease.

"Quite an ordeal indeed," Gilbert muttered into his mustache. "Would you care to tell me what's happened?"

Utena lowered her head. "I . . . don't know if you'd believe me," she said. Thinking back on all that had happened, if she hadn't lived through it, she wondered if she would have believed it herself.

"My dear, in only the past few years, as the waking world reckons things, I have journeyed across a country, been unfortunately privy to a gathering of killers, and seen my master's castle visited by beings from across all of creation. I daresay there is little you could tell me that I would not believe."

"If you say so," she said, holding a hand to her side. Gilbert took a first step, supporting much of her weight, and she slowly matched him. Once sure she could walk, Utena started to tell the story.

She began with the first duel, the one she fought for Wakaba and her broken heart, the one that ended with her engagement to Anthy Himemaya. She thought she saw Gilbert look surprised, but when she looked over at him, his expression was one of neutral interest. So she continued.

By the time she reached the end, with the revelation of Akio as the prince she'd dreamed of for so many years and the destruction of the dueling arena, they had reached the lake Utena had seen from far away. How they'd come so far, she couldn't be unsure, but she supposed if Gilbert told the truth about being this place he could take them wherever he wished.

Only knowing that she'd dueled over a dozen times in an arena that was truly the top floor of the headmaster's tower helped her deal with the thought of talking to a person who was also the very land through which they traveled.

The glade was as Gilbert had promised, calm and quiet, with patches of clover all across it and fruiting trees around the edges. Utena felt a sense of peace wash over her, and she sank to her knees among the clover, the ground soft and inviting.

"There you are, young miss," Gilbert said, his voice making Utena think of an old grandfather. "Rest for now. I'll speak to my lord, and he will know what must be done with you."

Struggling to keep her eyes open, Utena asked, "Your lord?"

Gilbert stood up straight and puffed out his chest. "My Lord Morpheus, ruler of the Dreaming, oft called King of Stories," he said, sounding very proud. "A fair man, above all, though not as most would expect. He will--"

"Dreaming?" Utena asked, her mind latching onto the idea. That would explain so much. "Am I dreaming?"

"No, my dear," Gilbert said firmly. "You are not. You are in the Dreaming, but you are quite awake, for the moment. And while such things are not unheard of, one who is not a dreamer suddenly falling into the Dreaming is cause for concern." He held up a hand as she tried to ask another question. "Sleep now, Miss Tenjou. When you have rested, we shall see what is to be done with you."

Utena closed her eyes, and a dark, dreamless sleep took her away.

* * *

"My lord?"

_Send her._

"As you say, lord. If I may be so bold, you sound upset."

_There is something about her, Fiddler's Green. She has the sense of one of my siblings. See to it that nothing happens to her._

"Indeed. Shall I bid one of my creatures to lead her to your home?"

_I will send Matthew tomorrow; he will guide her. Watch over her this night._

"As you wish."

* * *

Utena awoke to a pale blue sky and the sound of birdsong, and the scent of apples and apricots from the nearby trees. The aches that plagued her had eased somewhat; it no longer hurt only to move, and the pain in her side was a shadow of the day before. She stirred, and became aware of voices nearby. One she recognized.

"Good morning to you, Matthew. I trust your flight was uneventful?"

There was the sound of flapping wings, then the second voice, rough and scratchy. "Hey, Gilbert. That's the girl?"

"Indeed. She arrived within my bounds yesterday, and seemed quite distressed. Did our lord say anything of why she causes him such concern?"

"Nah, you know the chief. If he's got his reasons, he keeps 'em to himself. Haven't seen him this upset since the vortex thing, though."

"Hoom." Gilbert sounded upset, and when he spoke again, his voice was low, as though he hoped not to disturb her. "So much has changed since I left. We rarely had threats so often in the earlier days."

"I wouldn't know." The flapping came again, then stopped nearby, and Utena looked over.

A singularly large raven perched on a tree branch, looking at her with one eye, then the other. Utena slowly sat up, stretched, then looked around. Gilbert stood at the edge of the glade, and bowed his head as she turned to him.

"Good morning, Miss Tenjou. I trust you slept well?"

Utena got to her feet, stretched again, then smiled at him. "Yeah, thanks, Gilbert. You're really comfortable." She suddenly realized the strangeness of saying that, and she looked away, oddly nervous.

Gilbert smiled, the ends of his mustache curling upwards. "Many thanks, I do try."

Utena drank from the pond, then looked back to Gilbert. "I heard you talking, is there someone else here?" Or someplace here, she thought but didn't say.

"Morning, kid," the raven said.

Utena whipped around and stared, her mouth hanging open. The bird blinked at her, then looked at Gilbert.

"New here, isn't she?"

The croaky voice was the same; this was who had been talking to Gilbert when she awakened. Utena shut her mouth and took a step closer. First a person who was a place – or maybe the other way around, she wasn't sure – and now a bird who talked. She started to understand why Gilbert had said he would believe her story.

"Good morning," Utena managed, trying to smile to fend off the awkwardness. She remembered meeting Chu-chu for the first time, and pushed that thought aside. Chu-chu didn't really talk, not like this. "Sorry for being rude, but I've never met a talking bird before."

"Yeah, definitely new here." The bird scratched the back of his head with one clawed foot, then looked at her. "Name's Matthew. The boss sent me." He jerked his head toward Gilbert. "Gilbert told you about him, right?"

"Sort of," Utena said. The King of Dreams. It seemed so strange, especially after sleeping. "I don't really . . . know what's going on here."

"Welcome to the Dreaming," the raven cracked.

"Matthew, be kind," Gilbert said, frowning. "The young miss has had quite an adventure before falling into this place, and I suspect it's not at all over yet."

"Adventures don't usually end easy, yeah," Matthew said. "But at least you know where you're going next. The chief wants to talk to you, so we've gotta go."

Utena looked to Gilbert. "Already?" After all that had happened in the past day, she'd only just started to feel like she might be able to make some sense of it all. And now, to be heading off somewhere else – into dreams, it sounded like, or maybe the stuff that dreams were made of. . . .

"Worry not, my dear," Gilbert said, then took off his hat and bowed. "It's been my pleasure to be of service to you, and I hope we shall meet again."

"Thank you," Utena said, and bowed in return. "You've really been a big help."

"Matthew shall be likewise, I'm sure," Gilbert said. "Fare well." He donned his hat again, turned, then stepped into a tree and disappeared.

Utena peered at the tree, then looked at Matthew. "Did he just--"

"He can do that, he's here," the raven said. "Hey, d'you mind if I ride on your shoulder or something? I just flew all the way over here, and it might be a long way back."

She hesitated for a moment, then realized there was no reason to refuse. With all else that had happened here so far, why not? "Sure," she said, and held out an arm.

Matthew landed on her elbow and walked up to her shoulder, then settled himself. "Thanks, that's a relief. I've gotten used to flying, but it's not like I can fly all over the Dreaming all day without worrying about it." He pointed his beak to the edge of the glade, where a small beaten path had become visible. "That way."

Utena began walking, and glanced at Matthew out of the corner of her eye. "So we're in someone's dream?"

"Sorta. We're in everyone's dreams, but I don't think anyone's dreaming us right now." He tilted his head to look at her. "Let me guess: that didn't make much sense."

Utena shook her head.

"Figures." Matthew poked at a stray lock of her hair with his beak. "Was your hair always this color?"

"Mm-hmm," Utena said.

"Not too weird, for here." Matthew made a noise that might have been a chuckle. "Pink works for you. Anyway.

"This place is the Dreaming, and it's where dreams come from. Everyone comes here when they sleep – mostly everyone, I don't know all the rules and stuff like that, that's the boss's job. But we make dreams here, and--"

"So I've been here before?" Utena asked.

Matthew nodded back toward Fiddler's Green. "Probably not here," he said. "Gilbert gets mostly sailors' dreams and things like that, or people who really love the forest." He gestured ahead of them with a wing. They'd already reached the forest's end.

The path now before them was a road of multicolored cobblestones, with impossibly tall wooden-railed buildings done in a multitude of colors reaching nearly high enough to block the sun. Tiny children with fairy wings ran through the streets, chasing puffs of light.

Utena paused, staring, until Matthew nudged her. "What is this place?" she asked, her voice filled with awe.

"More dreams," Matthew said, then cawed a few times. The children ran from them, their laughter like tiny bells. "Don't know who's getting this. Me, I think I'd want to wake up quick if I dreamed something this colorful."

"So someone gets to dream of this?" Utena asked, continuing down the rainbow street. After a while, the path turned, and descended into a red-rocked canyon.

"Some stuff sticks around, some places go away after a dream or two." Matthew tucked his head under his wing for a moment. "It's something you get used to, living here. This must seem really weird for you."

"It probably should," Utena said. She held her hands out to her sides as the path narrowed and ascended, pulling herself up with the stones to either side. "I've seen some strange things, though; I told Gilbert all about what happened."

"Hmm. Yeah, you'll probably have to tell the boss about it, so save it for then." Matthew squeezed her shoulder. "Take a left here."

The path branched into seven different roads, some paved, some dirt, and one that seemed to be made of constantly shifting golden clouds. The path Matthew indicated was lined with stones of sparkling black.

Utena paused. "That one?" she asked. "You sure?"

The raven made the chuckling sound again. "Those stones, right? That's how I know we're going the right way. That'll get us to the castle."

"The castle?" Utena whispered. With all that she'd seen here so far, it was entirely possible for a castle to float in the sky upside-down . . . was that where she was finally going? Had she ever truly left?

* * *

When she saw the castle in the distance, Utena knew she had been wrong. Truly, she was somewhere new.

The road she and Matthew followed, now white pebbles bordered by the shining black stones, led to a stony hill surrounded by jagged canyons. The castle sat atop the hill, a massive collection of towers and pillars, pointed roofs reaching for the deep blue sky. Arched windows shined yellow and white, giving the impression that the castle had dozens of eyes, all peering across the land.

Utena hesitated, and Matthew peered at her. "You gonna go?"

"It's . . . not what I thought it'd be," she said, her eyes wide as she stared.

"Yeah, I don't know why the chief's got it looking like that." Matthew stood, spread his wings and shook himself, then settled back on Utena's shoulder. "I hope he's in a good mood."

Utena glanced over at Matthew, but she couldn't tell what he meant or what he was thinking. She couldn't read the bird's face at all. "Why would he be in a bad mood?"

"Well, there's you," he said. "He doesn't like surprises, not when it's in the Dreaming. Last time he got surprised, he almost had to kill this girl who was going to tear the whole place apart."

Utena started to ask what happened, then realized she didn't want to know. Fortunately, Matthew continued.

"See, this whole place is supposed to be under his control. Usually it is. But weird stuff happens sometimes. And he changes the castle to go with his mood, least that's what Lucien tells me."

"Lucien?"

"He's the librarian, maybe you'll meet him." Matthew paused. "Maybe not."

With nothing to do but face the inevitable, Utena continued down the white road. The castle grew ever closer, and soon she saw a multitude of smaller windows, each shining a different color, seeming to sparkle around the large windows. On her shoulder, Matthew cawed, and somehow sounded pleased.

"Oh, that's good," the raven said. "Colored windows, he's not mad. Good."

Utena gave him a cautious look. "If me being here would make him mad, do you think I should go?"

Matthew shook his head. "Nah, don't run. First, he knows you're here, probably knew as soon as you showed up. Second, really, where could you go? This is his place, he could find you." He paused. "Kinda makes me wonder, though, why he had me come and get you when he could have just pulled you here whenever he wanted."

Utena started to say something, then froze. For some reason, Matthew's words reminded her of a time or two when Akio had shown up right when she'd been thinking about him, or right when she wanted him to, or right when it would . . . make him seem the most like her prince.

She shuddered, then said "It's nothing" when Matthew looked at her, and continued toward the castle.

The white road led to the castle's massive front gate, an iron-bound door of dark, whorled wood. As Utena approached, what she'd thought to be statues around the gate turned their massive heads and looked at her. A lion with an eagle's wings and head, a winged serpent, and a winged horse guarded the door, all of them looking like they would enjoy nothing more than to rend her limb from limb and fight over the pieces if she upset them, or if she tried to force her way inside.

Utena slowed, and glanced at Matthew, ready to run if he said so.

"Hey, guys," Matthew called to the beasts. "She's with me, the boss sent for her."

The serpent leaned down over the gate, its neck many times longer than Utena was tall, and growled. "What is your name?"

"Utena Tenjou," she said, unable to keep herself from shrinking back a little.

"Enter at our master's behest, then, Utena Tenjou," the winged horse said, its voice smoother but no less stern. "You are expected in the throne room. Matthew will guide you. There are many dangers here – do not stray from your path."

The great gates opened, and Utena ascended the stairs and entered the darkness beyond.

When the doors shut behind her, torches flared to life, illuminating a hallway with dozens of doors to either side. The floor was a starry black marble, and the walls bricks of deep purple, white lines of mortar between them making the entire place seem striped. Utena stood there for a moment, staring.

Matthew nudged her with his wing again. "We really shouldn't keep him waiting. He's not all that patient, usually."

"What's he like?" Utena asked, her voice sounding small and quiet in the torch-lit hallway.

"He's. . . ." Matthew rubbed a wing over his beak a few times. "He's kinda hard to describe. I've only known him for a year or so, I think. Time's been weird for me since I became a raven. But he's a decent guy, and unless you get him mad, he'll listen to you." He paused. "I hope."

Once again, Utena decided not to ask. Something about Matthew's tone suggested that he'd seen what happened when his master was upset with someone, and Utena guessed it hadn't been good for anyone.

The hallway widened, and Utena found herself in a great chamber that looked as though the castle she'd seen from outside had been turned inside-out. The ceiling rose into great points, like the insides of the towers, and dozens of round-topped windows showed the blue sky. As she entered the chamber, a wide staircase appeared, carved from white stone.

"That's it," Matthew said, pointing his beak toward the staircase.

Utena glanced briefly to either side to make sure the staircase didn't wind around a massive pillar, then ascended. A door of white wood stood at the top of the stairs, with a single heavy knocker in the shape of a lion's head in its center. She hesitated for a moment, then knocked.

"Enter."

The voice from the other side was dark and deep, and unlike any Utena had ever heard. The single word a subtle sense of power, as though it alone could speak volumes. The door opened on its own, revealing the room beyond.

The white stone walls of the long room reached only partway up. A field of stars stretched above and beyond the walls, seeming to form the ceiling of the room although it didn't truly have one. Tall stained-glass windows reached from the walls up into the stars, their glass shining in all the colors Utena had seen on the outside of the castle during her approach. The floor was patterned, a black-and-white chessboard, with tiny white flecks all through the black tiles.

On the far end of the room, another staircase stood, growing thinner as it ascended. At the top of the stairs sat a high-backed throne of black stone, dark enough to seem carved from the night itself. Utena's eyes traveled up the stairs to the throne, and to the man sitting there, and she began to understand.

The man on the throne's skin was impossibly white, his hair the same black as his throne and sticking out in all directions, and he wore a robe of a blue-black material that seemed to have flames flickering along the edges and through its shadows. His eyes were the black of a nearly starless night, with only occasional flickers and sparks of light passing through them. His face . . . _seemed_ human, but looking at him, Utena could tell that he was not.

She knew the King of Dreams sat before her.

"Welcome," he said, his voice filling the room. "Please, come closer. We must speak."

Utena walked to the base of the stairs and stopped. Matthew leaped from her shoulder and flew, landed atop the back of the Dream King's throne, and peered down at them both. The man on the throne stood, his robes gathering and falling about him, and he descended one stair, his eyes never leaving her.

"I'm sorry for intruding," Utena said, feeling suddenly formal under the unblinking gaze. "I don't – I don't know how I got here, but Gilbert said he'd talk to you, that you're. . . ." She trailed off. "I'm not sure what I should call you."

"Morpheus," he said, "or Dream. Either will do. And you are Utena Tenjou."

Utena nodded, unsure of what she could say.

"How did you come to the Dreaming, Utena?" Morpheus asked. He frowned, though it seemed more that he was trying to solve a problem than any sign of anger.

"I'm not sure," Utena said, then took a deep breath. The air here was oddly cold. "Did Gilbert tell you anything?"

"Everything. But that does not explain how you came to be in the Dreaming." Morpheus stepped down another stair. "Show me your ring."

Utena raised her hand as he approached. He took her hand in his, and she shivered at his touch – like the room, he was an odd kind of cold, though she couldn't quite place what was strange about it. His eyes flared with stars as he looked at the rose crest, then released her hand.

"As I thought," he said, more to himself than her. "There is much about you I do not understand, and your arrival in the Dreaming poses a problem."

"So she's not the only one who's confused, eh, chief?" Matthew said from the back of the throne.

If Morpheus heard the raven, he gave no sign. "You came here," he said to Utena, "after the arena which was not an arena fell, after you attempted to save your friend. Himemaya, I believe, was her name."

Utena nodded. She'd only called her Himemaya when telling Gilbert the story; why, she wasn't sure – perhaps Gilbert's old-fashioned formality had influenced her. "She didn't come here, did she?" She felt her spirits rise for the first time since her arrival. If Anthy had come here, then he would know. It seemed impossible, but so much she'd already seen here also seemed impossible, and it was real enough.

Utena steeled herself. If Anthy was here, she would get Morpheus to help her find her. She'd already failed to be the prince once, she wouldn't give up that chance again.

Morpheus said, "No," then turned and stepped back toward the throne as Utena deflated. "No one with that name has been in the Dreaming."

"But I have to find her," Utena said, quietly, then raised her head and looked Morpheus in the eye. "Can you help me? I don't know what's happened to her, but she has to be somewhere, and if I came here . . . maybe she's somewhere else?"

"If she is not in the Dreaming, then there is nothing I can do," Morpheus said, settling onto the throne again. "But there are things about you I do not yet understand. My wish is for you to remain here for now."

"Your wish?" Utena asked, and started to glare at him. "What if I don't want to stay here?"

Atop the throne, Matthew shook his head violently. "Don't. Please don't."

"You will." Morpheus gave her a hard look, twin stars flaring at the center of his eyes. "You have come into the Dreaming unbidden, and that is cause enough for my concern. But there are . . . other aspects of you that worry me. My wish is for you to remain here as my guest. No harm will come to you."

"But Anthy--"

Morpheus held up a hand, and Utena found that she could no longer speak, and hardly wanted to. She glowered at him in protest, then saw that his eyes had gone wide.

"Anthy," he said, his voice quiet. He steepled his fingers beneath his chin. "Why do I know that name?"


	3. Chapter 2: A Promise in Your Collection

Objects of Desire: Chapter Two – A Promise in Your Collection

Utena stepped down slowly into her room's oversized bath, then immersed herself. She stayed beneath the surface for a moment, letting the water surround her, flow over her, wash away the strangeness that had filled this day.

She surfaced a moment later. No matter how she thought of it, a simple bath couldn't change what had happened. No matter how hard she tried, or how long she stayed under, she couldn't wash away the truth.

Utena pushed a mess of wet pink hair back from her eyes, then half-swam over to the bath's edge and leaned back, stared up at the starry ceiling. So much had happened today. And if all that Morpheus said was true, if half of what she suspected was true, then it would only grow worse.

* * *

"Come with me," Morpheus said, and Utena found that she could speak again.

"You know Anthy?" Utena asked, frowning. It didn't seem possible. She was somewhere else, somewhere very else, a place where no one knew of her. How could anyone, even the king of this realm, know Anthy?

Morpheus stood and began descending the stairs that led to his throne. "I feel that I ought to," he said, "and that disturbs me." He walked past her without looking back, as though expecting her to follow because he had ordered it.

Utena found herself briefly reminded of the guidance counselor at Ohtori, who'd expected rules to be followed simply because she said so. She then remembered her inability to talk, or even to want to talk, a moment ago, and understood that Morpheus had the power to enforce his authority in ways that the counselor had not. Utena followed.

The throne room's doors opened as he approached, and led into a long, narrow hallway of white stone with no visible end. A few steps later, a door opened to the left where no door had been, and Morpheus and Utena walked through.

The library on the other side stretched upward, many stories high, so far that Utena could not see the top of the shelves. Candelabra were mounted at the end of each shelf, lighting the whole place with a warm, friendly glow. Utena stood and turned, trying to take in the sheer scope of the place. It seemed that all the stories ever told would be found here, and even those never spoken or written. She understood why Gilbert had called Morpheus the King of Stories.

Utena wondered what Miki would say about a place like this, and smiled faintly at the thought.

"Lucien," Morpheus said, and Utena spun around.

A voice came from somewhere between the bookcases, calm and cultured. "My lord?"

The man who emerged was taller than Morpheus, clad in a suit of a style Utena had not seen before. He seemed somehow old-fashioned, as though coming from a time when a person's respectability had been something that they truly wore about them. His ears were long and pointed, and his brown hair was likewise, swept back to three long peaks behind his head. Utena was not surprised at all that he wore glasses; he would have seemed incomplete without them.

Morpheus's voice brooked no argument. "Bring me the census, Lucien."

"Of course, my lord," Lucien said, and disappeared down another row of books.

"Where are we?" Utena asked quietly; the place seemed to require a certain hush.

Morpheus's smile was faint and fleeting. "The library," he said. "All the stories of all the dreamers who are or ever were. Lucien is my librarian."

She looked up at the shelves again, still unable to see where they stopped. "He keeps track of all this. . . ."

"Indeed." Morpheus folded his arms before himself. "Lucien knows nearly as much of what happens in the Dreaming as I. He is a most faithful servant."

"I guess he'd have to be," Utena mused. "I don't know how he could find anything in here, but as soon as you said something, it was like he knew exactly where to look."

"It's his duty to do so," he said, then leaned against one of the bookcases. "It has been some time since I required the census, but he will know where it is and will have it updated as well."

Utena paused, then turned and looked Morpheus in his starry-black eyes. "The census," she said. "Of dreamers, or of dreams?"

"The latter."

Why would he need that, Utena wondered, unless – he thought Anthy–

Lucien reappeared from between different shelves than the ones he'd left through. He held a large book with yellowed pages, open in his hands. Utena saw that it was entirely handwritten. "Here it is, my lord," he said. "At last count, eleven thousand, one hundred and eighty-one. Is there someone you wish to know of?"

"Anthy," Morpheus said, and Utena held her breath.

Lucien frowned, his eyebrows coming to a point over his glasses. "Anthy," he repeated. "That seems familiar, though I can't place. . . ." He trailed off, and began to flip through the book he carried. "Nightkind, nightmares, night whispers, nocturnes. . . ." He flipped faster, and had nearly reached the back when he said, "Ah. Here, lord," and held the book to Morpheus.

"Thank you." Morpheus took the book, looked down, and his eyes flashed bright. "Anthy," he whispered. "How is this possible?"

Utena wanted to shout that she'd been wondering that ever since she'd arrived, but the look Morpheus and Lucien were sharing suggested that she should hold her tongue. She doubted that they would pay her any attention, anyway.

"Do you remember her, Lucien?" Morpheus asked, his finger resting on a page that Utena couldn't see.

"Now that you mention it, I do," Lucien said, pushing up his glasses. "One of your more free-wheeling ones, but that was her nature. I haven't seen or heard of her since . . . since the Dreaming grew unstable."

"Since my capture, Lucien; you may speak of it." Morpheus frowned, then beckoned Utena to come closer. "Do you recognize her?"

Utena stepped over to him and peered into the book. She started to say something, then paused, struck by the image's warped familiarity.

The girl who stood there, the intricately drawn image, could have been Anthy, though Utena never would have thought it. Her skin and hair were the same shades, the green of her eyes unmistakable. The mark on her forehead was similar to Anthy's, though larger and clearly red. But the way she stood, the way she carried herself, the expression on her face. . . .

The girl in the book smiled, somehow both open and suggestive at the same time, and there was a relaxed sense to her posture that Utena had never seen in the Anthy she knew. She looked like someone you could talk to – no. She looked like someone who would start a conversation just to talk to you, just to see if she wanted to know you. The reluctance to speak, the quiet and withdrawn nature that Utena had grown to know so well . . . nothing of that. The girl in the book's eyes were wide open, not closed and hidden behind glasses and a forced smile.

"I . . . I don't know," Utena said, then looked away. "It looks like her, physically I guess, but that's not her."

Morpheus and Lucien shared a significant look, and Morpheus closed the book and handed it back to the other man. "Lucien."

"My lord?"

"This is Utena Tenjou, who has fallen into the Dreaming due to circumstances that I do not yet understand. She is to remain as a guest here in the castle until I give further orders. I will have a room made for her, and she will be assigned a guard. Guide her to her room; I have much to do."

Lucien nodded, bowing his head low. "As you wish, Lord."

A great yell came from somewhere within the library. "Coming through!"

Utena leaped aside as a wheelbarrow filled with furniture came speeding down one of the rows of bookshelves, a cloud of smoke coming from somewhere behind it. She stared as it went past, and saw that the – the person, she supposed, pushing the wheelbarrow had a pumpkin for a head.

Utena blinked a few times. The pumpkin-head remained.

"'Scuse me, toots," the man said as he passed, smoke from his cigar trailing him. "I got your order, boss, be ready in a few."

Utena looked back to Lucien, and saw that Morpheus was gone. "Was that – did he just--"

Lucien gave her a kind smile. "I apologize for Merv's rudeness, and I assure you he means well. Come with me, please, Miss Tenjou." He held the thick book close to his chest.

"Just Utena is fine," she said, and followed Lucien into the maze of bookcases. "So, the census . . . that's all the dreams, right?"

"Indeed," Lucien said. He walked through the stacks without pause, as though it was not possible for him to become lost. "You sound concerned. I suppose you knew Anthy, once upon a time?"

Once upon a time. Not a bad way to put it, she thought. "I did," she said with a nod, "but she didn't look like what's in your book. She's sort of the same, but her hair was wavy, not straight, and she never would have looked at someone like that."

Lucien gave a faint laugh. "Then perhaps you did not know her," he said, and Utena's eyes opened wide. "Anthy was . . . unusual, as dreams go. I occasionally questioned Lord Morpheus's wisdom in creating her, but he claimed she was a kind of experiment, and that he would not let her go astray."

So that was it. She'd tried not to believe it, but hearing it from someone who'd known her somehow made it more real. Anthy was a dream. Not just a dream, but a creature of dreams, made by the king of dreams. Utena lowered her head, watching Lucien's feet as they walked. Ohtori seemed very, very far away, and all that had happened there some kind of distant memory.

Two days ago, though it seemed less than that, she'd reached for Anthy's hand and tried not to let go as the arena crumbled around them. Now, she found herself in quite literally another world, and was told that Anthy was not what she had seemed to be, neither in person nor in Utena's memory of her own distant past.

Who was the Rose Bride, then? And who had Utena seen when she was a little girl, when her parents had died and she'd met her prince? Who had she been trying to save all this time?

"Do you think," she began, then swallowed hard. "When Morpheus finds out what's happened to Anthy, do you think he'll tell me?"

"I'm certain he will," Lucien said. "Please don't misunderstand my lord. While he is not always kind, he is fair, and he always keeps his word. It's been some time since he's had a mystery, so I would imagine he's doing all that he can to find an answer."

"I hope so," Utena said quietly.

A pause, then Lucien asked, "You were close?"

Utena nodded, not caring whether he could see her or not.

"I wonder," Lucien said. "Your story is in the library, it might be of some help to Lord Morpheus." He sounded like he was talking to himself, but Utena raised her gaze.

"My story's in there?" she asked.

"Everyone's story is," Lucien said, pride clear in his voice. "If you would like, I can have yours sent to your room. Not everyone has the chance to read their own life story; most simply have to live through it."

Utena shook her head. "I . . . don't think I want to, not right now. But thank you."

They continued to walk in silence. At some point they left the library, and walked through hallways and up staircases of stone, their way lit by torches and candles, until Utena was sure she would never find her way back. Occasionally, they would pass someone, and Utena caught glimpses of fancy robes and unusual facial features and once was sure she saw a woman with the head of a fish but couldn't be sure.

Finally, a voice came from up ahead. "Yo, Lucien! All set."

Utena looked. The pumpkin-headed man was there again, his wheelbarrow now empty, still puffing away at his cigar. Dust covered his overalls, and his rolled-up sleeves revealed vines instead of arms. Utena stared for a moment, and he grinned at her, his pointy-carved-tooth smile wide.

"Thank you, Merv, that will be all," Lucien said.

Merv waved a hand at him. "You got it, Loosh," he said. "You don't like the room, Pinky, let someone know, sure they'll get me in there to fix it," he continued as he walked down the hallway, then trailed off as he went around a corner. "Ain't like I got nothin' else to do. . . ."

Utena watched him go, then looked back at Lucien, who wore a sympathetic expression. He motioned for her to follow. They reached a round-topped wooden door, and Lucien opened it.

"These," he said, "will be your rooms for as long as you are a guest. Food and clothing have been provided, and bathing facilities are around the far corner. You should be quite comfortable."

Utena looked through the door and stared. The room was like something out of a fairy tale castle, complete with canopied bed and wooden wardrobe and deep carpets covering the floors. A fireplace with a mantel of dark, polished wood held several burning logs, flickers of blue and green among the embers. A tall window with a pointed peak took up much of one wall, revealing a black sky with hundreds of stars slowly sweeping by.

She took a few steps into her room, then looked over her shoulder at Lucien. "This is for me?" At his nod, she asked the more difficult question. "How long has this room been here?"

"A few minutes, at most," Lucien said, "and likely it will cease to exist once you leave us. I must warn you: do not wander the castle by yourself. There are many things here that would be dangerous to you, and others that you simply would not wish to meet."

Utena suppressed a shudder. Lucien had mentioned nightmares when he was flipping through the census. . . .

"Lord Morpheus will send for you when he wishes to speak to you. For now, please, rest." He gave her a kindly smile. "Sleep well, Utena," he said, and closed the door.

Utena threw herself onto the bed, then rolled over and looked out the window, watched the stars pass by for a moment. The view soon brought back unpleasant memories, so she stood and walked through her rooms.

The bathing facilities Lucien had mentioned included a bath large enough to hold six or seven people, already filled, with wisps of steam drifting across the surface. Utena sighed and slumped, then stripped out of her uniform and left it on the bed.

Far too much had happened for her to want to sleep now, but a bath would make everything seem better. Or, at least, easier to deal with.

* * *

That was what she'd thought, not long ago; but now, after reliving the entire strange series of events in her head . . . Utena sighed. A dream. Anthy was a dream. A dream that looked different than how Utena had come to know her, but unmistakably the same.

How?

She let herself remember things better left alone, remembered the car that Akio drove, the roads around Ohtori that – now that she thought about them – never truly seemed to go anywhere but back to Ohtori, and the strange things that had happened at the school. She'd once thought the Sword of Dios was a trick, and Saionji had said the castle in the sky was an illusion, a trick of the light.

What could keep the entire place from being the same?

Utena frowned, and dipped herself under the water again, then rose and began to squeeze out her hair. That seemed like too much. With all that had happened, from the sword to the arena to the strange change that had come over black rose duelists and quickly faded, she knew and accepted that things happened that she couldn't explain. She managed a small smile at the thought that she was bathing in one right now. But for an entire place to be as a dream. . . .

Utena left the bath and dried herself, then donned a plush robe from a nearby stand and returned to her room. She glanced at the bed, then froze.

Her uniform was gone. In its place was some kind of tunic and pants, along with a small folded note. She approached, suddenly cautious. She'd had quite enough of strange notes appearing.

The note itself was written in a flowing, feminine hand; whomever had written it said that they'd taken her uniform to be cleaned and repaired and that it thought she'd look just lovely in these new things. Utena shook her head. It seemed all of Morpheus's servants were bizarre, each in their own special way.

The clothes themselves were very well-made, of a soft fabric Utena couldn't quite place. The tunic was a dark blue with swirling golden trim around the cuffs and collar, and the pants were a pale grey, fitted around the cuffs with the same trim pattern in silver. Having nothing else to wear, Utena put them on, and found that they fit perfectly.

She sat down on the bed and lay back, staring up at the canopy and the pattern of stars sewn into it. The bed was soft and comfortable, but Utena knew she wouldn't be able to sleep anytime soon. Too much had happened, and besides, was it really possible to sleep in a dream?

In the middle of trying to figure this out, Utena disappeared.

* * *

Morpheus walked into one of the few rooms in his castle that rarely changed.

The room itself was sparse and plain, a simple square with only one door. Curtains hung from the room's corners, forming arches near the ceiling; they were the room's only decoration. Seven frames hung along one wall, each holding a different symbol within their bounds. One held a thick tome, the second a silver ankh, the third the oval, steel-shiny skull he used as his helm and symbol of office.

The fourth frame held nothing but black.

A ring with a cruel hook sat at the center of the fifth frame, and the sixth held a stylized metal heart. The seventh was an ever-changing whorl of colors and shapes, occasionally forming something that might have been a butterfly or a school of fish before becoming something completely different.

He approached the sixth frame, a frown firmly seated on his face, and took the heart from it. "Sister-brother," he said, his voice tight and restrained. "I stand in my gallery, and I hold your sigil. I wish to speak to you."

A moment passed. Desire would, of course, make him wait. He was about to ask again when its voice flowed through the sigil into his gallery.

"Of course, dear brother; I was just thinking of you. I'll be there."

He replaced the sigil, then stepped back, his arms folded into the opposite sleeves of his fire-edged robes. Dealing with Desire was never easy; his sibling was, as to be expected, a master of manipulation. Dream felt the cold, sharp anger of old grudges swell within him, and shook his head once, admonishing himself. His concern with Desire was a specific one, and it would not to do to become distracted.

A curl of smoke puffed forth from the heart sigil, curling and billowing back upon itself, until Desire fully formed. It clad itself in a deep purple pantsuit with black pinstripes, topped with a fedora set at an angle to deliberately obscure one yellow, cat-like eye. It held a long-handled cigarette holder, which itself held a lit cigarette. The last of the smoke from Desire's entry flowed back into the cigarette as it fully formed.

Desire spoke again. "To what do I owe the pleasure." It was not a question.

"An unusual individual arrived in the Dreaming yesterday," Morpheus began. He watched Desire's expression closely for any sign of surprise, knowledge, or the concealment of either. He saw nothing. "She is not a dream herself, but was familiar with one . . . a dream that has been missing since my imprisonment."

He paused, giving Desire the chance to admit it knew of what he spoke, to make this entire meeting easier. It said not a word, only raised a sculpted eyebrow.

"The dream is one I had not known was missing, despite Lucien's completely thorough check of the census after my return," he continued. "If this in itself was not cause for alarm, the girl carries the sense of one of yours."

Desire lowered its cigarette and laughed, rich and mellow. "Honestly, brother. Do you think I'm sending spies to the Dreaming now? Do you think I've nothing better to do?"

"I think you do what pleases you, whether you think it a wise idea or not," Morpheus said, his voice suddenly hard.

"True enough," Desire said with a shrug. The fine lines of its suit hardly moved. "But, the truth: I've sent no one to your domain. I have no reason to. Your doings are hardly my concern, Dream."

He narrowed his eyes. "Would that was always true. I'm concerned less with the girl than with the dream. She knew the dream, where she was, and she claims that the dream looked much like she did in the census, but not entirely." He took a step closer. "You know something, and you will tell me."

"I may know something, and it's none of your business," Desire said, and took a drag on its cigarette. "I don't bother your creations, regardless of what they do. I'd appreciate it if you did the same with mine."

There. It'd told him something, just enough. "So one of your own creations is involved," Morpheus said. "Which?"

Desire laughed again, and blew a puff of smoke at him. The smoke stopped before it reached his face; he did not step away. "Come now, dear brother. I've a collection of my own little toys. Some of them have their own little toys. It's simply the way of things."

"I'm aware of your collecting," he said, still glaring hard at it. "You collect many things – hearts, wishes, promises. But I never allowed you to start collecting dreams."

"I never needed your permission." Mirth fled from Desire's yellow eyes. "This is truly none of your business--"

"My own are involved," Morpheus said, his voice rising. The frames on the walls shook slightly. "You cannot say I've no right to investigate."

"I'll say what I wish." Desire turned away, blew out a ring of smoke, then paused, one narrow hip thrown out. "Bring the girl, Morpheus."

He paused, considered, then made a quiet effort of will.

* * *

–a sudden moment of cold disorientation and then–

Utena appeared in a room with picture frames on the walls, and quickly caught her balance as her hair fell down around her face and shoulders. Morpheus stood beside her, though he looked at the other person in the room. Utena looked as that other turned, and her heart began to pound.

Man or woman, she couldn't tell, but – he? she? – it radiated a kind of sensuality that left Utena flushed, her breath suddenly short. A torrent of sheer need surged through Utena, and only Morpheus's hand suddenly clamping down on her shoulder kept her from falling to her knees. The being's smell was intoxicating, vaguely reminiscent of summer and something deeper, and it had two shadows, one wavy and shimmering, the other dark and sharp-edged.

It shot Utena a grin just as sharp, and Utena's heart nearly stopped. She knew that grin. She'd once treasured it.

"Indeed," it said slowly, seeming to relish the word. "Just as I thought. Introduce us, won't you?"

"Utena Tenjou," Morpheus said, sounding as though he'd rather be doing nearly anything else, "this is my sister-brother, Desire. Desire, this is Utena Tenjou, lately come to this realm." A pause. "She is my guest, and you will not harm her."

"Wouldn't dream of it, dear brother," Desire said, and took a few steps forward.

Utena forced herself to blink, found her eyes unwilling to close, lest they lose just a moment of gazing on the being before her. Something familiar tugged at the back of her mind – had she known Desire before? No, she would have known, she couldn't possibly forget. . . .

"Yes," Desire said, drawing out the word. "I should have known. You're one of his, and you've caused him quite a bit of trouble."

"Akio," Utena whispered as pieces began to fall into place. Surely Morpheus wasn't the only one who had beings he'd created – Desire was his sister or brother or both – such a familiar feeling with such a new creature, but hundreds of times more intense–

Utena turned her head away and wrenched her eyes shut, forcing herself to think. "Stop that," she whispered through clenched teeth.

Desire laughed, surprisingly deep for its voice, and Utena flushed, her face hot with anger and embarrassment and an acute, aching kind of lust. "You are the one!" it said, sounding absolutely delighted. "I can see why he liked you so much. No one's caused him that much trouble in so very, very long, though. He's quite upset."

"Tell me," Morpheus said, his voice quiet but undeniably firm.

Desire ignored him, and began to walk around them both, its footsteps clacking and echoing in the small room. "You're definitely one of his," it said, taking a lock of Utena's hair between its fingers and letting it slide through.

Utena shivered, hard, and focused on the ring she wore. She'd put it back on for a reason, for the only true reason. If Morpheus was the king of dreams, then his sister-brother – it was no wonder it was so hard to resist, so hard to think of anything but its smell and the sound of its voice and the presence Utena could nearly feel–

"He marks the ones he wants to play with," Desire continued. Its circling walk took it closer to Utena with every orbit. "The hair . . . always the hair. That's something of him I never understood, why he had such a . . . fetish."

"And he had one with purple hair, I would guess," Morpheus said. Anger was still clear in his voice, though now he sounded somewhat curious, as though he'd already drawn his own conclusion and waited for it to be confirmed.

"He has that himself," Desire said. "Utena would know, wouldn't you?"

Utena said nothing. She focused on breathing, resisted the urge to bury her face in Morpheus's robe in the hope that it would drive off Desire's scent.

Desire paused, mere inches away from Utena. "He misses you," it said, and then its voice dropped to a whisper. "Why don't you let me take you back? I'm sure you two could be so happy together--"

"No!" Utena spun and lashed out, shoving Desire away from her, gasping for breath all the while. She had the sudden want for a rose, to throw it at Desire's feet, to challenge for a duel. But was that her own want? She paused, still breathing hard, and let her expression grow hard as Desire looked back at her.

Gone. Utena suddenly realized that the lust, the need she'd felt, had disappeared all at once. If Desire would take her back to Akio – no. Better that it killed her, for all that Akio might do . . . for fear she'd fall under Akio's spell again, fall into the trap of becoming the princess, and give up everything she'd lived for.

Far better, she thought, to continue to be the prince. Anthy was still out there, somewhere. She still had reason to be the prince.

Desire stood silent for a moment, then tilted its hat so it covered both eyes. "Definitely one of his favored," it said, then walked toward the pictures, its steps still slow and seductive. "Your guest's been quite rude, dear brother. I'll be taking my leave now."

A slowly curling pillar of smoke, then the last traces of the summery smell, and it was gone.

Utena let her breath out all at once, and slowly collapsed to the floor. Sweat beaded on her brow, and she tugged at her collar; the entire room suddenly seemed far too warm. She looked up at Morpheus, who wore a considering look.

"Interesting," he said.

"What did," Utena gasped, then swallowed hard. "What did it mean? Saying I was one of his favorites, she could tell by my hair?"

Morpheus looked down at her, and something softened around his eyes. "I believe I know," he said. "Likewise I believe you will not like the answer." He held out his hand. "Come."

Utena let him help her to her feet, and did her best to calm the shaking in her legs. She started to stretch, then hurried after him as Morpheus left the room, remembering his warning about wandering the castle alone.

"Where are we going?" she asked.

"First, to my scrying chamber," he said. "I would know where we're bound before making the journey."

Utena felt herself go pale. If he meant what she thought he meant. . . . "Then where?" she asked cautiously.

Morpheus didn't look back at her. "To your place of origin. To Ohtori."


	4. Chapter 3: Razors and the Dying Roses

Objects of Desire: Chapter Three – The Razors and the Dying Roses

The stone of Morpheus's scrying room was so black it seemed to drink in light, making the torches in the corners seem weak and feeble. A round pool of softly shifting water sat at the center of the room, throwing back the torchlight in faint, flickering patterns. Utena stood opposite him, hands folded behind her back, heart still racing.

She breathed deeply, trying to make sense of what had just happened and what Desire's words could mean. Desire had created Akio. . . . Utena nodded to herself; it was easy to believe. If Morpheus was the king of dreams, then Desire had to be the king or queen of wanting things, she supposed. Desire could easily make a man who made people want him too.

Flushed, Utena lowered her gaze to the pool, watching the orange sparks dance across its surface. She'd wanted Akio, she couldn't deny that. More than wanted. All the same. . . . After what she'd just felt with Desire, that uncontrollable _need_, she started to wonder.

She'd thought she loved him. Had she? Or had that all been part of his game, part of himself, just what he did to people? If Desire was about wanting, had it made Akio to be about loving?

Utena shook her head violently, trying to chase away the thought. Making someone want you wasn't love. And now–

Now, they were going back.

Ohtori, seen from above, appeared in the scrying pool, and Utena held herself steady. She glanced up at Morpheus, saw him deep in concentration. His eyes met hers, and he nodded.

"Interesting."

"What is?" Utena asked.

"The world is bound by its borders," Morpheus said, gesturing to the pool. "Observe."

The view of Ohtori in the pool grew smaller, then–

Utena gasped. Just past the roads that wound in circles not far from the campus, the world ended, and a purple-black haze dotted with stars surrounded the entire place. The pool's view shifted, showing Ohtori from the side, and Utena saw a sun, a sky, and nothing else beyond. A world unto itself, nothing but the school and a few handfuls of buildings, nothing more than a mile beyond Ohtori's walls.

So that was it . . . that was why she didn't remember traveling much beyond campus, why the roads around there seemed to go nowhere else. There was nowhere else.

She frowned as something occurred to her. "If there's nothing else, how did I escape? How did Anthy – did she?"

"I cannot tell." Morpheus's black eyes narrowed, and the image of Ohtori rotated again, zoomed in from above. "The pool is limited to viewing at a distance, unless I wish otherwise, and I do not want Akio to know we are coming."

"So we have to go there," Utena said, putting a hand to her mouth.

"Yes." Morpheus's voice was resolute. "If either of us is to have any answers, we must go."

The picture in the pool continued to draw closer, and moved across the buildings of campus, circling around the dorms and heading toward the tower at the center. As the view neared the tower, she saw those she knew – the student council was in session, Juri and Miki sitting at a table on a balcony that jutted out midway up the tower. Touga stood near the edge, his back to them, his long red hair blowing in the breeze.

It seemed that he was posing, even if there was no one to watch. How typical, Utena thought with a faint smile. A prince in his own mind, at the least.

As Utena watched, the view swept across campus, and voices trickled through when it drew close enough. She caught snippets of conversation, so familiar – worries about tests, gossip and drama, the shouts and grunts of the sports teams hard at work and play. She expected to hear someone call for her, everything seemed so close.

A sad smile reached Utena's face. So close, and yet truly so far away.

It couldn't have been so long ago. . . . She'd walked into the dueling forest one last time, Anthy waiting for her on the stairs outside, and then somehow also waiting for her within the gondola to take them both to the arena. Somehow, she'd never questioned that; it was the way the duels worked and there was no explanation. Even walking up the hundreds of stairs to the arena had never tired her, never made her weary before a duel. And she'd never stopped to wonder how her opponent got there.

So many things, so many questions she should have asked. Should she ask Akio when they arrived?

She remembered Morpheus's words, that she would not like the answers, and suppressed a shudder. Maybe she wouldn't ask.

The image faded as she realized this, and she looked at Morpheus again, wondering if he'd been reading her thoughts, or perhaps her wonderings. His expression was blank, neutral. Behind him, the stone door opened, and he turned to leave. Utena hurried after him.

The doorway led them back into the library, through what Utena was sure had been a fireplace when she'd been here not long ago. Morpheus looked around, then nodded as Lucien approached them.

"I have the information you requested, lord," Lucien said. He glanced from Morpheus to Utena and back. "Will it still be necessary?"

"I'm unsure," Morpheus said. "Utena and I will be leaving, for what will likely not be a long journey. Keep watch while I am gone."

"As you wish, my lord." Lucien bowed at the waist, then disappeared into the library once more.

Utena looked up at Morpheus once they were alone again. "So . . . how do we get there?"

"You are nervous," Morpheus said. "Why?"

Utena turned. The fireplace was there, and she sat down in an armchair near it. Morpheus sat in a chair across from her, and folded his hands in his lap. She watched him for a moment, then looked down at her hands.

"It's a lot of things," she said, her voice quiet. "I didn't know . . . what was going to happen. I don't even remember why I went to Ohtori, I was just surprised when there were other people there with the same ring."

She toyed with the ring on her finger, staring down at the familiar pattern. For a moment, she wondered if she should still wear it, then she thought of Anthy and had her answer.

"And with everything that happened, I don't think I want to go back," she continued. I don't even remember leaving. I don't know if anybody will remember me, or even recognize me."

"Why would they not?" Morpheus asked.

"I don't know." Utena frowned, lost herself in thought for a moment. "It's only been a day or two, but I've been thinking of all these things, things I didn't wonder about when I was there. And I was thinking about how . . . how Desire was, and what it did, and if it created Akio, what Akio could do."

"My sister-brother is not without power, but Desire is self-limiting." Morpheus frowned. "Desire does what Desire wishes, and that is often the end of things. What one of its creations would be capable of, I could not say." He paused. "This worries you as well."

Utena only nodded.

Morpheus stood, his blue-black robes falling neatly about him. "We must go. Delaying changes nothing, and will not make it easier."

She took a deep breath and stood. He was right, though that didn't mean she would look forward to the trip. "How do we get there?"

Morpheus almost seemed to smile. "All things dream, or nearly so. We will travel the ways of the Dreaming until we find a dreamer from Ohtori." He turned and began walking, motioned for Utena to follow. "Stay close, and do not wander. Nothing will harm you so long as you walk with me."

Utena fell into step beside him, and the world around them began to change.

The library walls melted away, until only the stone floor beneath their feet remained, which became a pale white walkway through nothingness. Color changed around them as they walked, and when bright orange light surrounded them, the road they walked shifted to a long dirt path through an endless savannah.

Sudden motion caught Utena's eye, and she turned to see a tribe of naked huntsmen leaping through the grass, chasing a lion the color of midnight, their spears striking sparks from the sky as they arced toward the beast. She watched for a moment as the hunters brought down their kill, then hurried to catch up with Morpheus.

The dirt path led them to a wide-mouthed cavern, stalactites poking down over the entrance, slowly dripping onto the pale blue rock beneath. The sound of deep, even breaths came from within, and Utena stepped more quickly, staying with Morpheus. He might be lord of this place, but that didn't mean nothing would try to scare her away from his side.

They made their way through the cave, Morpheus's steps never failing, his eyes shining in the darkness. When light came from up ahead, it was the deep purple-blue of near dawn, thousands of stars shining in the darkness.

The cave ended atop the roof of a building, hundreds of stories up from silent city streets. Morpheus paused, and Utena looked around. Wherever they were seemed almost dead, with only a few lights in a few windows scattered across the cityscape. It was a larger place than ever she'd seen before; Ohtori could have disappeared within a few blocks and anyone who had no reason to go that way would never know it was there.

Was that how Ohtori was supposed to be? A school that could be anywhere, lost in a city without people, only Desire and Akio knowing where it truly was? Utena frowned at the thought, looked down at her ring again. It had led her to Ohtori once, perhaps–

"Ah." Morpheus began walking again, toward the roof's edge.

"What were you looking for?" Utena asked as she caught up with him again.

"A school," he said, and placed one foot upon the roof's rim. "This is an old city, and might be any city in any dream. But it has been some time since I was last here."

Utena stepped up next to him, and looked down. The height seemed dizzying, yet she felt no vertigo. Maybe knowing this was some kind of dream made it easier; she knew Morpheus would not let her fall.

"How long?" she asked idly, looking down for any sign of dreamers.

"Longer than I wish to think about." Morpheus stepped out into the empty air and walked, motioned again for Utena to follow.

She swallowed hard, hoped she'd been right a moment ago, and took a first step after him. The air held her, and she followed, silently marveling at the world around them.

They took a descending path over and through the city, walking the airways over and around buildings, once passing through two windows to get through an empty home with dozens of pictures hanging on the walls. The eyes of those in the photos moved as Utena and Morpheus passed, but always stilled when she turned to them.

In time, they reached a low group of buildings with a high wall around it, and a long gate at the front of the place. A blurry sign at the front looked somehow official and anonymous all at once. Utena peered at the place, and came to understand.

"It's a school," she said with a nod. "It couldn't be anything else, could it?"

Morpheus shook his head once, and the two of them walked onto campus. Buildings rose around them, all with long hallways and tall windows and open doorways that led into rooms filled with rows of desks. The smell of chalk dust lingered at the edges of Utena's senses, and she half-heard students calling to each other and the stern voices of teachers trying to get them to quiet down.

The colors of the walls, first all dark shades of blue, slowly began to change as they walked, until Utena found herself once again surrounded by Ohtori's familiar hallways. She followed Morpheus to the third-floor classrooms, fighting to remind herself that this wasn't real, that she hadn't gone back.

Not yet.

High-pitched, triumphant laughter came from one of the rooms ahead. Morpheus headed in that direction. Utena paused for a moment; the laughter sounded vaguely familiar. Those three voices, always together. . . . Morpheus stopped at the classroom doorway, then looked back at her.

Utena reached the doorway and looked inside, and her eyes snapped open wide.

The scene could only have been one from a dream; to see it so real before her made Utena wonder yet again if she'd somehow been imagining this entire journey. The classroom was arranged into some kind of royal court, with all the desks shoved to the sides of the room and all the students on their knees, bowing to the queen at the front of the room.

Queen? Queens. . . . The one with the crown changed and changed again as Utena watched. She recognized the girls, though their names eluded her. Those three girls, all somehow dedicated to Nanami, all an occasional and bizarre source of trouble. Two stood behind the third, and that third was sitting on – not a throne, but Nanami on her hands and knees, stripped naked, her hair unbound and hanging before her tear-streaked face.

The girls switched again, so now the one with pigtails was the queen, the crown sitting at an arrogant angle atop her head, and the other two stood behind her. The cruel laughter never stopped.

Utena looked up at Morpheus. His expression hadn't changed. "Whose dream is this?" she asked, her voice quiet. If it was Nanami's, the girl must be having a nightmare. If it was one of the girls', then why were they changing?

"It's an oddity," Morpheus said, sounding faintly interested. "Their dreams are so similar as to be one and the same. Each dreams of being the queen, at one other's expense." He walked into the classroom; the dreamers paid him no attention.

Utena walked in after him, still staring at the shifting scene of royalty. "They all want to be above her," she said, frowning. "I thought they were friends, once. Anthy said something about who they really loved, or who one of them loved." She bowed her head and turned away. "I feel sorry for them."

"Come closer," Morpheus said, and waited until she stood right next to him. "We leave the Dreaming here."

Utena blinked. "How--"

The scene around them shimmered and shuddered, and the dreamers disappeared. Utena and Morpheus stood in an empty classroom, all the desks in their proper places, the blackboard clean for the next day. The same purple light of near-daybreak filtered in through the windows. Somehow everything seemed more solid, without the sense that it could change at any time that had persisted throughout the Dreaming.

Utena took a deep breath. The smells of this place were still there, all so familiar. She glanced down at herself, half-expecting to suddenly be in her uniform once again. The dark blue and grey of her new outfit seemed to clash with this entire place.

Suddenly, the dawn's light came in through the windows, swiftly growing brighter, as though the sun raced into the morning sky. Morpheus scowled, his eyes growing still darker.

"He knows we're here," he said. "Come."

The buildings that held the classrooms stood around a large central yard, and by the time Utena and Morpheus reached the yard, the school bustled with students. The familiar green-and-white uniforms seemed bright and cheerful, and from all around came voices filled with laughter, students greeting each other at the start of a new day.

No one looked at them at all, Utena noticed, even when they changed their paths to walk around her or Morpheus. She thought about calling out to see if anyone would notice her, but hesitated. What would she do if they answered, and what would she do if they didn't?

The tower stood at the center of campus, the highest place in all of Ohtori, and Morpheus led them in that direction. Utena fell a step or two behind him, looking down at the ground. Akio knew they were here. Akio was waiting for them. Akio was waiting for her. She clenched her fist, let the edges of the ring dig into her fingers. She would be strong, she had to. Anthy was still out there somewhere, and if Akio knew anything, Morpheus would make him tell her.

After all, Morpheus wanted Anthy back too.

Then, she wondered, what would happen once they found Anthy? Would Morpheus want her to stay in the Dreaming? He was set on getting her back, Utena had no doubt about that, but he hadn't said anything about what would happen next. After all she'd gone through to save Anthy so far, and with whatever happened after this . . . would she lose Anthy again?

Utena raised her head and was about to ask when someone called out something that stopped her where she stood.

"Wa-ka-baaaa!"

A black-haired girl in the girls' uniform sped through the crowd. As Utena watched, the girl leaped, and collided with another girl, this one with brown hair pulled high and tight into a ponytail with one long curl looped over her high forehead.

"Wakaba," Utena gasped.

Wakaba stumbled as the other girl clung to her shoulders, and yelling and proclamations of love ensured. Utena stood, her mouth partway open, hardly able to believe what she saw. It was just as Wakaba had been for her, saying nearly the exact same things; Wakaba even said the same things Utena had said in protest so many times before. A single moment from Utena's life played out before her with the wrong people in the wrong roles. She started to say something, felt her mouth go dry, nearly choked.

"You knew her."

Utena jumped, realized Morpheus stood right next to her. She coughed, then turned away from the too-familiar scene. "She was my best friend," Utena whispered. "Now. . . ."

"Interesting," Morpheus said with a frown. "I see nothing of you in her mind. Perhaps you were correct in guessing that no one here would remember you."

She turned and stared up at him, her mouth slightly open. It had only been a guess, just something she'd wondered about once she found herself thinking about so many things she'd not thought of before. But for it to be true . . . was it like she'd never been here?

Bells tolled atop the tower. All around them, the students hurried. Utena didn't move until the campus was quiet again, all the classrooms full. She wiped at her eyes, then looked at Morpheus again and took a deep breath.

"Let's go."

He said nothing, but continued toward the tower. Utena followed.

The only door at the tower's base led directly into an elevator. An abstract rose larger than she was tall greeted them, painted on the elevator's doors. Morpheus entered the elevator without hesitating, and once Utena was inside, the doors closed behind her.

A quiet and familiar dinging sound rang out, and the elevator rose.

"If he knows we're coming," Utena said after a few floors went by in silence, "you think he wants to see us?"

"I think he wants to see you," Morpheus said. "I doubt he is looking forward to having to deal with me."

She looked at him from the corner of her eye. "Do you think he's afraid of you?"

Stars flickered through Morpheus's eyes for a moment, then went out. "He held one of my dreams without permission. He should be."

The ding sounded again, and the doors opened, revealing a room Utena had hoped to never see again.

The view from the top of the tower was staggering; all of campus and the ocean and town beyond were visible. From here, Utena never would have guessed that this world ended beyond the tower's view. Arched windows, stories tall all on their own, let the morning light flood the room, shining bright across the red floor. The planetarium projector dominated the center of the room, its windows dark, the machinery still. Two white couches faced each other on opposite sides of a small table, tea for three already set out, wisps of steam rising from the flower-painted cups.

A broad wooden desk, the only new furniture in the room, sat off to the side, facing the elevator. Sitting on the desk's edge, one leg folded politely over the other, looking at her like he'd been waiting all his life for this moment, was Akio.

Utena scowled, drawing on as much hatred as she could, remembering the moment when he'd come to her in the arena and claimed to be her prince, the man behind the way she'd chosen to live her life. No. He'd wanted her to take off the ring, he never would have given it to her in the first place.

This was not her prince.

"Welcome back," Akio said, his voice rich and mellow and meant for her alone. "I've missed you."

Morpheus started toward him without hesitation. Utena steeled herself as she followed. Let him do the talking, she thought. All they needed was to know what had happened to Anthy, then they could go.

As they approached, Utena saw Anthy's glasses sitting next to Akio on the desk. Her heart pounded a few hard, painful beats. Was she still here? Should they have checked the rose garden? No, Morpheus would have known, she was one of his – but he hadn't known until Utena said something – why did Akio have her glasses?

"You have someone of mine," Morpheus said, stopping a few feet away from Akio, seeming unimpressed by the other man's casual manner. "Tell me where Anthy is."

Akio threw his head back and laughed, as though this was all part of some elaborate comedy. "There's no reason I should tell you anything, Dream King. You should keep better track of your own." He leered at Utena, his eyes gleaming. "I keep track of mine."

Silence. Utena pulled her gaze away from Akio, and looked at Morpheus. Stars flared in the centers of his eyes. He said nothing, hardly seemed to notice her, focusing on Akio alone. She realized the next word was hers.

"I'm not yours," Utena said firmly. Not so hard, was it, she thought. She'd defied him before at the arena, gone against everything he'd wished for her. He'd laughed then, told her that she knew nothing, that she was playing prince halfway. She watched his face now, looked for the amusement in his eyes.

It was still there. He still laughed at her.

"You were once, weren't you?" he asked, his voice low and seductive. "You betrayed someone you called your friend to be mine."

"Stop it," Utena said through gritted teeth. "Tell us where Anthy is, that's the only reason we're here!"

"Is it?" Akio pushed himself off of the desk, long legs unfolding, and strode toward her, eyes on her alone.

Utena froze as Akio approached, memories flooding her mind. All of the past two days seemed to wash away as she recalled the time she'd spent with Akio and everything that had happened. He turned neatly and stepped behind her, his scent clean and masculine and utterly familiar, and Utena flushed red.

"You came back to me," Akio whispered. "It's not too late. All that you left behind. . . ."

His fingertips drifted across her cheek, his breath was warm on her ear. Utena's eyelids fluttered as she struggled not to fall back–

Desire. He was Desire's, its creation and probably its lover, if either of them were truly who they showed themselves to be. Utena remembered that encounter, and shoved Akio away as well, sending him stumbling back toward the elevator.

"No," Utena breathed, then steadied herself. "No." She looked Akio in the eye, her frown set hard on her face. "I met Desire."

"And you resisted?" Akio's eyebrows rose. "Perhaps I underestimated you." He tilted his head to look at Morpheus. "Or perhaps this is your influence. You surprise me, Morpheus, I wouldn't think that you would interfere."

Morpheus's eyes narrowed. "I tire of this. You will speak plainly," he said, and the last sentence had the ring of a command. "Now."

Akio's eyes widened for a moment, then he walked over and relaxed against the desk again, picked up a cup of tea that hadn't been there a moment ago and sipped. "It's your choice," he said, nodding to Morpheus. "It would have been easier on her."

"Speak, Akio," Morpheus said, unmoving.

Akio smiled. "You are mine, Utena, as Anthy belongs to Morpheus and I belong to Desire."

Utena felt the bottom drop out of her stomach, and her knees began to shake. How. . . ?

"I don't know what happened to you." Akio went on, as casual as if they were discussing tea or the weather or the stars. "No one else had so much . . . drive, so much free will. They were all content to play their roles." His smile slowly faded, turning to an unfamiliar scowl. "No one else would have caused so much trouble."

She stared down at her ring, clenched her hands together to keep them from quivering. "That's impossible," she whispered. "I remember – my parents, they died, and then the prince came – I remember--"

"How much do you remember?" Akio asked, his voice almost kind. "Tell me about your parents. What did they look like, how did they treat you? How did you come to Ohtori, and when? What happened to you in-between?"

"I–!" Utena opened her mouth, then froze, wracking her mind as she searched for the answers to his questions. Blank. Nothing. No memories of her parents' faces, nothing of their voices, and not a single idea of what she'd done between the funeral and her arrival at Ohtori. She collapsed to the hard red floor.

The sound of Akio's boots on the floor was familiar and somehow sinister, coming slowly toward her. When he spoke, contempt was clear in his voice. "I blame Dios. He gave you such . . . inspiration, more than I'd thought possible. You were never meant to be a prince, you should have played the game like everyone else."

"Dios." Utena managed to raise her head, to look him in the eye. "You. You were Dios."

"Did you think I lied?" Akio smiled again, charming and cruel. He looked away for a moment, his expression turning oddly contemplative. "Yes. I was Dios, for a time, so I could learn what it was like to fall." The scowl returned as he looked back to her. "You were never meant to be a prince yourself, you were only there to help me learn what I wanted to know.

"I suppose Dios made you what you are. You were born by the rose, you live by the rose. You'll return to me, and someday, you'll die by the rose, like you never were."

Utena looked past him, to Anthy's glasses on the desk. She forced herself to focus. Nothing else mattered. "But Anthy wasn't yours," she managed.

Akio's gaze followed hers. "Not at first. She fought." He ran the tip of his tongue across his upper lip. "She fought. But in time . . . she let herself forget who she was. The glasses made it easier. If you don't see yourself in the mirror, then who are you?"

A memory flickered through Utena's mind – standing in the tower, looking out across Ohtori, looking through her own reflection in the window. That was when she'd taken off the ring, for the first time in as long as she could remember.

The person in the mirror hadn't turned out to be her; she'd put the ring back on soon enough. But if Anthy could not. . . .

"You made her forget," Morpheus said, his voice echoing. Utena shivered; she'd nearly forgotten he was there. "You made her forget, so she would not show up on the census of dreams."

"Everyone forgets here," Akio said, "it's one of the joys of youth. Do you think anyone will remember seeing either of you? They forgot you as soon as they saw." He chuckled at Utena. "All those in the council, do you think they remember you?"

"The council. . . ." Utena suddenly understood what Desire had meant about those Akio marked, about his particular fetish. The hair colors of the student council, herself, and Anthy – Akio had marked them all as his playthings. She remembered them, the meeting she'd seen in Morpheus's scrying pool. Akio wasn't done toying with them.

Morpheus hadn't moved from where he stood, but his voice could have shattered stone. "You stole one of my own and made her forget. I have every right to destroy you for this."

"Do you think she's the only one?" Akio laughed. "Another came of her own will. But you," he said, kneeling at Utena's side, "made Anthy remember. No one else cared to. And she saw that you could leave and thought she could do the same."

Sudden understanding dawned in Utena's eyes. "You don't know where she is either," she said quietly.

"But I know where you are," he said, and leaned close, over her. "Come. Stay. Wouldn't it be easy to forget all of this, and just . . . be . . . Utena?"

He didn't say it, but she heard it in his voice: he still wanted her to play the princess.

Utena opened her mouth to protest, and the windows slid shut, casting the room into darkness. A moment later, the familiar white stone of the arena, the rose seal done in red all across it, glowed into existence.

Above, the lights of the castle in the sky bloomed to life, and a staircase rose from the center of the arena into the shadows. Utena quickly got to her feet, glanced around. Morpheus was gone.

No, she thought. Not again. Not now. He couldn't take her, couldn't make her forget, couldn't – turn her into his–

Two white boots appeared at the darkness at the top of the stairway, and began to descend. She recognized them immediately. Akio's outfit during the final duel, before he'd taken her sword from her and tried to make her his princess.

Utena took a step back, then another. There had to be something–

A sudden billowing sound, and Morpheus's blue-black cloak wrapped around her, his pale arm winding around her waist. The cold disorientation came again, and the arena blurred, and they were back in the Dreaming, back in the throne room of Morpheus's castle.

He released her, and Utena stumbled, barely catching herself before she fell. She gasped, finding it suddenly hard to breathe. How could any of it be true? How could–

Utena made herself stand up straight, and looked at Morpheus. She could barely manage a whisper. "You knew."

"I guessed," Morpheus said, looking profoundly unsurprised despite all that had just happened. "Would you have believed me if I'd told you what I thought?"

She shook her head, swallowed hard, wiped the tears from her eyes. No, she wouldn't have believed him. She still didn't want to. But Morpheus had ordered Akio to speak plainly, and it seemed he'd been forced to tell the truth. So, now. . . .

"What do we do now?" she asked.

"Now." Morpheus faced the throne room's doors, and put a hand to his chin. "Now, with a name and her memory, I should be able to trace Anthy. I will find her. If both of you fell into the Dreaming, there are only so many places she could have gone."

Utena nodded, then looked down at the floor, watching her reflection there. She looked tired, somehow . . . old. "What should I do?"

At first, Morpheus said nothing; Utena looked up at him. Some kind of sympathy showed in his eyes, an expression he seemed unfamiliar with. "Rest," he said. "I will call for you." He waved his hand.

Utena hardly noticed the cold sensation, and found herself back in her room. Rest, Morpheus had said. How could she, with all she'd learned?


	5. Chapter 4: Take my Hand and Walk

Objects of Desire: Chapter Four – Take my Hand and Walk

Utena's school uniform sat atop her bed, sewn and cleaned and neatly folded. A card lay next to it, elegant feminine handwriting saying that the writer hoped she was pleased and would love to design something else for her. Utena set the card aside, then picked up her uniform top and held it out before her.

She remembered the last time she'd done this, or something much like it. After Touga defeated her in a duel, after he made her think he was her prince and then showed her how she'd been wrong, after he'd shown her that the Rose Bride only did what she was told. . . . Utena sighed. The memory came back too easily; Anthy's loss seemed so fresh.

Utena took her uniform and hung it in the wardrobe, then opened her room's door.

The white hallways Lucien led her through yesterday were gone; now, a vivid blue staircase descended from Utena's doorway, joining a wider stair a few dozen steps away. She blinked once in surprise, then shook her head. The longer she stayed, the easier it would be to get used to such things, she supposed. But how long could she stay?

More importantly, where else could she go?

She wasn't a dream. Had she been, staying here would be easy; the others seemed to enjoy it, or at least didn't have a problem being here. Gilbert had seemed oddly delighted at being part of the Dreaming. But was there a place for her here? If things went wrong, if she didn't find Anthy–

Utena's heart clenched at the thought, and she felt herself grow cold inside. She began to close the door, then paused at the sound of flapping wings.

"Aa-awk!"

She pulled the door open quickly as Matthew flew up the stairway and into her room. He circled a few times, then landed atop the fireplace mantel. At his touch, a fire lit, and the room slowly grew warmer. Utena looked at him, curious; he was breathing hard.

"Okay," he gasped, "good. Got here before you . . . before you left."

Utena closed the door and leaned against it, watching him. Something seemed strange about watching a bird pant.

"You remember what the chief said, right?" Matthew asked, then fluffed out his feathers. "Don't go wandering around. He told me, make sure to keep an eye on you. Said you'd probably be sleeping, so I didn't think--" He shook himself. "Scared the daylights out of me."

"I'm sorry," Utena said quietly. "I don't . . . I don't think I could sleep right now."

Matthew squinted at her with one eye, then the other, twitching his head back and forth. "Can't sleep in a dream? I got like that, first few days I was here. You get used to it."

"Are you a dream?"

He shook his head. "Nope. I'm the raven. Don't know what the deal is, but the Dreaming's got to have a raven."

"But you're not . . . he didn't create you." Utena put a hand to her mouth and looked away, to the bed, to the window, her gaze never staying anywhere for long.

The sound of wings came again, and when she looked over, Matthew stood perched on the bed's footboard. "Is that what's eating you? You think it's weird that he created the girl you're looking for?"

Not quite, but Utena nodded; Anthy being a dream was part of all of this. "I never would have thought of it. There were some strange things about her, sure, but I never thought that. And how did you know about that?"

"It's a big castle," Matthew said, lifting his wings in something much like a shrug. "People talk. And you get used to it, you know? Most of the people here, most of the stuff that hangs around the Dreaming, it's the chief's work. He makes dreams, he makes nightmares; it's what he does."

She looked away and said nothing. A moment later, Matthew hopped closer to her, still on the footboard.

"Yeah, I can tell, that's not what's bothering you. C'mon. Let's go see Lucien. I bet he's got a nice, boring book, help you get to sleep."

Utena smiled despite herself, and opened the door. Matthew landed on her shoulder, and they entered the blue stairways. He directed her through half a dozen passages, each a different color stone, always with the echoes of her footsteps booming hollow from the high ceilings. Pale stone busts sat in alcoves along the walls; several times, Utena was sure she saw one's eyes move. She wondered if she'd been here too long when she realized she wasn't even surprised.

The pale wooden doors to the library were carved to resemble rows and rows of books, and they swung open as Utena and Matthew approached. As they passed through, Utena realized that the doors had been carved with the exact books and bookcases that were on the other side, as though the carver had seen through the doors to do his work. They entered near a fireplace, as before, and Matthew flew over to one of the large chairs and landed.

Utena looked down the rows of books, but saw no one. "Lucien?" she called.

"He'll be here," Matthew said. "He knows when someone's looking for a book. Guy knows this place, he can't get lost."

"I hope not," Utena murmured, looking up again. She spotted movement on one of the higher shelves, along a balcony built into the bookcases. For a moment, she wondered if Lucien was going to jump down. Nothing so dramatic happened; he simply glanced down, saw her, then disappeared around a corner.

A few moments later, Lucien appeared down another row of books, and bowed his head as he approached. "Utena," he said. "Welcome back. How may I be of service?"

"You got any real snoozefests in here?" Matthew asked. "She can't sleep."

Lucien looked down at Matthew over the tops of his glasses, his frown making his face seem drawn and pointed. "Matthew," he said, his voice quiet but forceful, "this library holds every book ever created, even those that never existed outside the minds of their authors. I know its contents intimately. Name any subject in all of creation, and I will find you something to read on it.

"I will not, however," he continued, "permit the use of my books as sleep aids." He turned to Utena, his expression softening. "Now, what would you like to read?"

"I'm not sure," Utena said, slightly taken aback by the conversation. Lucien seemed like such the quintessential librarian; she hadn't expected him to get so upset. She couldn't tell if Matthew was upset or not. "I didn't really come for a book, I was just following Matthew."

Lucien looked at her for a moment, then gave her a fatherly smile. "I see. You've had a rough time of it, haven't you. Come, sit."

He walked toward the fire and took a seat in one of the high-backed chairs; Utena did the same. Matthew flapped over and settled himself on the back of Utena's chair, shunning Lucien's.

"Do you wish to tell me what's happened?" Lucien asked. He took off his glasses, then pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and began polishing them. "The books contain many stories, and I'm sure I know of something that could help you feel better."

Utena stared into the fire, watching the flames dance. She took a deep breath, then whispered, "Did Morpheus make you?"

At first, Lucien did not answer. The logs in the fire crackled and popped, sending sparks up the chimney. Utena wondered if there truly was a chimney, or if the smoke and sparks would simply disappear as soon as no one saw them. Hadn't Lucien said her room would stop existing after she left? Was anything permanent here?

Was this . . . was this what it meant to be someone's creation? Akio had said that she would die, like she had never been, and if all he'd said was true, then he could make anyone in Ohtori forget all about her. If she was forgotten, then . . . would it matter if she'd existed at all?

Again, Anthy came to mind, but if she was as temporary as everything else here, or even if she could be . . . what was made could be unmade. Utena wondered how many dreams had been unmade, and if anyone here remembered them.

"I do not truly know," Lucien said, sounding quiet and introspective. He looked over at her, glanced briefly at Matthew. "I know that I was once something else, here in the Dreaming. But I chose to become the librarian, and Morpheus made me what I am." He sighed. "I would guess you learned something of yourself you would rather have not known."

"Desire," Utena whispered, then put the tips of her fingers to her mouth.

"Oh." Lucien looked rather put out. "That one's involved? No wonder there's trouble. Of all our lord's kindred, Desire has most often been a thorn in his side." He paused. "Are you one of its?"

Utena shook her head. A few locks of pink hair fell over her eyes, and she let them stay. "Not Desire's," she said, "but one of Desire's creations . . . made me. He made everyone I've ever known. He made my parents, or made me remember my parents, I don't even know if they were real or not--"

"Kind of hard to say what's real around here," Matthew said.

"Not how I would say it, but Matthew speaks the truth." Lucien gestured all around them. "This is real. It may not be real tomorrow, or in another few minutes; it depends on my lord's whims and decisions. But for now, it's as real as anything else."

In a way, Utena understood. The dueling arena had not been real; much of what happened there had been Akio's work, so even the results could have been just what he wanted to happen. But she remembered the feel of the Sword of Dios in her hand, the shine of the strange glow from Anthy when the sword appeared, the ache and tingle that came from striking swords in all the duels.

It had all happened. Akio's illusions or not, the duels were real. She'd fought every one of them.

She raised her head, though her eyes remained half-closed. "What would you do," she asked, "if Morpheus made it all disappear?"

Lucien folded his hands in front of himself, seeming chastised. "Well." He cleared his throat. "I hope he wouldn't simply get rid of the library. Some call him the king of stories, and I don't know that he could be that without the books." He seemed to relax a bit. "But I'm sure he wouldn't do such a thing without reason, and he does treasure his faithful servants."

Above her, Utena heard Matthew make the odd noise that she thought was a chuckle. Lucien ignored him.

Utena did her best to sink further into the chair. "It's just . . . I don't know anymore. Everything I thought was true, everything that I remembered – none of it was real." For what felt like the hundredth time since the arena collapsed, she looked down at her ring. Without a prince, could she still be one?

"I see." Lucien stood. "One moment, please. I believe I know what you need to read." He walked off into the shelves and was gone.

Matthew shuffled atop the chair. "You gonna be here for a few minutes?" he asked Utena. "I just got a word from the chief, he needs to talk to me."

"I think so," Utena said. "I'll have Lucien take me back to my room if I go."

"Okay, gotcha." Matthew took flight; the doors opened for him and he was gone.

When Lucien returned, he handed Utena a small, thick book, its cover white with a patterned black border, roses in all four corners. There was no title, but she recognized the symbol at the cover's center. Utena ran her fingers over the embossed rose seal, done in pink that reflected the fire's flickering light.

"What is this?" she asked quietly, though she knew the answer.

"It's your story," Lucien said. "Not many people get to read their story while they're still living it."

She tapped her fingers on the cover, not opening the book. "There's no title."

Lucien smiled. "Not all stories need them. Please, stay and read, if you wish. I promise I won't be offended if you fall asleep, the chairs are quite comfortable."

A small bow, and Lucien walked off into the library again. Utena stared down at the book in her lap, hesitated, then opened the cover and turned to the first page.

_Once upon a time, years and years ago, there was a little princess, and she was very sad, for her mother and father had died. . . ._

* * *

Utena lost herself in the story she had lived.

Every move she'd made, every thought she'd had, from the first moment of her arrival at Ohtori on the day she'd seen Anthy and challenged Saionji to a duel, everything was written down. She squirmed through the first few pages, finding the experience uncomfortably intimate, even if it was herself she read about. The book was even written as she would have written it, as though her mind and state of being had printed themselves onto the page.

She reached the part after her first duel, when Anthy had come to her and said that she'd been waiting for her, and that from that day forth, she belonged to her. At the time, Utena had thought it strange, still wondering what was going on and how this girl could let herself be won in a duel. Now. . . .

In the book's description of Anthy's expression, Utena recognized the pain that Anthy hid, and saw again how Anthy had been forced to be the Rose Bride. What had Akio said? The glasses made her forget who she was, or helped; she wasn't sure. But in getting to know the girl behind the glasses–

The image of Anthy from the census of dreams flickered through Utena's mind. That was what Anthy was supposed to look like, how she'd been created. When she found her, what would Anthy look like?

Frowning at the unanswered question and hoping Morpheus found some sign of Anthy soon, Utena kept reading.

The story continued, through the second duel and into the dance. Utena managed a small smile at Nanami's antics, finally knowing the whole story. She understood how she'd suddenly found herself back in her school uniform – the duelist version of it, even – after wearing that awful pink dress Touga had sent to her. At the time, she'd hardly wondered; the idea came to her and she knew it was right.

Somehow, it was all part of Akio's manipulations, to get her to think she could be the prince before he found her and made her want to be the princess. She flipped the page, and had just begun to wonder if she truly wanted to read the whole story when the library doors swung open and Matthew flew inside.

The raven landed atop her chair and peered down at the book. "Neat trick," he said a moment later. "The tablecloth dress thing."

Utena shook her head slowly and closed the book, then looked at Matthew, her eyes wide with expectation. "Did Morpheus find her?"

Matthew stretched out his wings, then folded them against his sides. "Maybe," he said.

She started to say something, then frowned, ran her fingertips over the rose on her ring. "Maybe?"

"He's not too sure," Matthew said, "but he thinks he's got something. Weird thing about Anthy, she could shape dreams a little, so if she doesn't want to be found, she's not gonna make it easy."

Utena looked down at the book and wondered. If Anthy still felt like Akio was controlling her, then Utena was still the one engaged. . . . "Maybe she will for me," she said quietly.

"Yeah, the chief was thinking the same thing," Matthew said, then paused. "I think. He's not big on telling me what he's thinking, he just gives orders. Mostly. Anyway, the spot he found's a couple days away. You want to walk, or should I see if you can get a horse or something?"

Utena thought about riding horses through the woods and winced. "I'm okay with walking," she said. She turned and smiled at Matthew. "I guess you're coming with me?"

Matthew glanced around, and made the strange chuckling sound again. "Don't see anyone else around, so looks like it, yeah."

Utena resisted the urge to reach up and scratch his head. She lay the book down on a table, then stood. "When can we leave?" she asked, stretching out one leg, then the other. "I know I didn't get any sleep, but I'm not really tired. It'd be good to get started soon." She stifled a yawn, then gave a small smile when Matthew tilted his head at her. "Okay, maybe I should sleep. . . ."

* * *

Half a day and a full night's sleep later, Utena and Matthew left the castle at the heart of the Dreaming. Utena wore a pack that held food, a bedroll, and directions through the Dreaming to where Morpheus had sensed some sign of Anthy's presence. The pack also held her story; Lucien had insisted she take it with her, so long as she returned it when her journey was done.

The road leading from the castle stretched out before them, wide and flat and shimmering in the morning sunlight. The castle now stood in the center of a meadow, surrounded by rolling hills. Utena looked around, one hand held above her eyes to shade them, and saw someone sitting atop one of the distant hills, a giant paintbrush in his hand. As she watched, he brushed in the lower parts of the sky, turning them a lighter shade of blue.

Utena watched for a moment, then turned back to the path and began to walk. She had the feeling that if she asked Matthew about it, he'd just say something that made it seem like having the sky painted in was completely normal and happened every day.

"So, where are we going?" she asked, fiddling with a pocket on the side of her backpack, reaching for Morpheus's instructions. When she unfolded them, she blinked a few times, turned them upside down, then looked at Matthew. "What is this?"

Drawn on the paper was a kind of map, but as Utena watched, the lands shown shifted and changed, never quite in the same place or the same shape as before. Only the castle at the center remained stable. There were no marks, no noted roads, and there was no sign of where they were. Once they left the area around the castle, they could be completely lost.

"It's not too hard to read," Matthew said, leaning down from where he perched on Utena's shoulder. "The Dreaming changes, so the map changes too. You just have to. . . ." He tilted his head. "Okay, hold it still for a second." He peered at the map for a moment, then cawed. "We gotta go there?"

Utena started to ask, then hesitated. As long as they didn't have to go back to Ohtori, she doubted she'd mind going anywhere else. The thought of Akio waiting for her again. . . . The image of his smile, far too close to Desire's, flashed through her mind, and she winced at the sudden ache in her heart.

He could try to pull her back, whenever he wished . . . and if he had created her, she might as well be Desire's creation as well. Couldn't she just be her own?

"Can't say it'll be a fun trip," Matthew said, breaking her reverie, "but at least we won't have to go anywhere the nightmares hang out. And it's pretty near Fiddler's Green."

"Good," Utena said, and nodded slowly as she rolled up the map. Maybe she could talk this over with Gilbert too. If he was both a place and a person, he might understand some of what she was going through; she was pretty sure he had to be Morpheus's creation.

The journey through the Dreaming led Utena and Matthew first through a thick forest, twisting black branches and hundreds of spade-shaped dark green leaves blocking the sun and leaving the entire place dappled with tiny white bits of light. Pounding hooves echoed from all around as they walked, and once Utena caught sight of a rider atop a horse with eyes glowing bright red, but no one challenged them.

Utena found herself quietly glad that Matthew was with her. Surely the dreams would know that Matthew served Morpheus, and wouldn't bother her . . . she hoped.

At the end of the first day, they camped next to a waterfall, rainbows shining at its base from the light of the setting sun. Utena lay back on her bedroll, her story at her side, and stared off into the distance for a moment, then began to read.

Two chapters later, she wondered how much had happened at Ohtori that revolved around her but she'd never known. The tale of the duel between she and Miki, with Kozue's mischief intermingled; how could she have known, and why was this all part of her story? Perhaps being the one engaged meant more than she'd thought. It seemed as though she'd played the starring role for a while, despite wanting to be a normal girl, as she'd once said.

What was it Touga had said, after he'd defeated her? Now she could go back to being a normal girl – just as she'd said she wanted to be, and as she wanted Anthy to be. Anthy. She'd mostly called her Himemaya then, Utena remembered; why, she didn't know. The name couldn't have been hers, must have been something Akio had inflicted on her. Even Morpheus hadn't known who Himemaya was.

But it seemed to her that whoever was the one engaged was the star of the story. Maybe that was why there was no title, only the rose seal on the cover. She considered flipping forward a few chapters, to see if the story centered around Touga once he was the one engaged, then shook her head. If it worked that way, the story would have started with Saionji, or whoever was engaged before him.

How had the game begun, anyway? Surely the duels had to start with two people who wanted the power to revolutionize the world fighting for Anthy; it didn't seem like the game would start with someone automatically engaged. For that matter, how long had the game been going on? And who were the duelists before the student council? Akio hinted that he would find other favorites when he was tired of the ones he had, and Desire said that the ones Akio favored were marked by their hair. . . .

Utena closed the book and put a hand to her forehead. So much to consider, and she'd never given any of it a thought when she was at Ohtori. It seemed Akio didn't want his toys thinking too much. She scowled, then put the book away for the night.

Never again would she be anyone's toy.

They reached Fiddler's Green on the evening of the second day; Gilbert stepped out of a tree as they approached. He looked the same as before. Utena figured that one of the advantages of being a dream was that you didn't have to worry about changing your clothes or anything like that. She wondered if Matthew had ever thought about it, then doubted it, as he didn't have to wear anything.

"Good evening, Miss Tenjou, Matthew," Gilbert said, bowing low once they were close enough to hear him. "I trust you are enjoying your stay in the Dreaming?"

"It's been . . . interesting," she said, then paused as she glanced over Gilbert's shoulder. Unlike the constant change she'd seen in other places while in the Dreaming, Fiddler's Green seemed just as it had when she arrived. That small pool, was that the same one he'd made for her when she first met him? Even the birdsong sounded familiar.

"She's had a hell of a trip, Gilbert," Matthew said. "You mind if we stay here tonight?"

"Not at all!" Gilbert took off his hat, and held out both his arms as he turned in a circle. "You are most welcome, of course. Though I would suppose I am but a stopover on your greater journey."

"You could say that. The chief found some sign of Anthy, so we're headed there. Probably a half a day away or so." Matthew flew off of Utena's shoulder, and landed on a nearby branch. "You seen anything strange nearby?"

"No more so than usual." Gilbert put his hat back on and assumed a thoughtful pose. "I must confess, I rarely travel these days, so I suppose I may be of little help."

Utena took a deep breath. "I'm not sure about that," she said, and paused when Gilbert looked at her. "Can I talk to you about something?"

"Of course, my dear." Gilbert gestured at his surroundings. "Find a comfortable place, and we may speak as long as you wish."

Once she'd settled herself, Utena took out her book, and set it on her lap, hands resting on the cover. "Morpheus created you, right?"

"Indeed he did. My lord created me, as he created all the dreams and most of this land's denizens. May I ask why you wish to know?"

Utena folded her hands to keep them from shaking. Thinking about it was one thing, and she'd talked to Lucien about it easily enough, but after two days of reading her story and pondering what it all meant, the truth was somehow harder to say. "Morpheus and I, we went to Ohtori. He made Akio talk, and Akio said that he . . . that he created me. That he created everybody, except Anthy."

She bowed her head and tried to keep her breathing steady as Matthew told Gilbert about what had happened and what Ohtori was and who Akio was as well. When they were done, she looked at Gilbert, saw the thoughtful expression on his face.

"Hoom." Gilbert sat down beside her, and folded his legs beneath himself. "It seems this may be a lengthy conversation. But I shall begin with this question, Miss Tenjou: what does this change about you?"

Utena frowned at him. How could he ask something like that? Wasn't it obvious? "What does it change? Everything! If I'm not who I thought I was--"

"Aren't you?"

She started to retort, then . . . wondered.

Gilbert continued when Utena found herself unsure how to reply. "It was wise of you to come to me with this, Miss Tenjou; as I have spent most of my existence as a place and not as a person, I may be well-equipped to offer you a helpful perspective."

"And you'll take longer to get there than anyone," Matthew muttered.

"Wisdom and brevity rarely make a match, my avian friend," Gilbert said. "Consider this: if you knew nothing of your creation, if you thought yourself born of man and woman, would you be the same person you are today?"

For a moment, Utena remembered her parents, small flashes of voices, touches, shadowed faces of the people she'd hardly known. She remembered the funeral most of all, and her determination after meeting the prince. Nothing, she thought; it was all Akio's doing. It might as well have never happened.

And if it hadn't, then what would she have done?

She remembered what she had said, her own words from the book: _I want to be a prince who saves princesses._ To be the prince. That thought, that ideal, had guided her through so much of her life. Through everything. Was it still her?

"I don't know," she said quietly.

"An adequate answer," Gilbert said. "Let me continue. There is a phrase in the waking world, to meet one's maker. In most cases, it's meant as an euphemism for death, for literally going to meet the being who created oneself."

Matthew chuckled again.

"Now, those of us who know ourselves to be created have the advantage of having met our maker, of knowing our own origins." He paused, resting his hands on the handle of his cane. "In some ways, it makes life a good deal easier. Knowing from whence we come, we can better consider where we wish to go."

"But would you be the same," Utena asked, "if you were a person, and not a place?"

"I did attempt to be a person for some time, several years ago," Gilbert said, then looked faintly embarrassed. "I must confess, I was not much good at it. But it was what I wished to do. And to answer your question, having never been a place, I would not have been the same as a person, no. But having been a place shaped me as a person, just as who you have been before learning of your own origins shaped you into the young woman who sits before me. Do you understand?"

Utena took a deep breath. "I'm not sure," she said. All the same, there was some sense to his words. "But I think I might, someday."

"Very well. I see that the sun has nearly set; I shall be a kind host and bid you good-night. Sleep well and without fear, nothing will harm you here."

Utena lay back on her bedroll and tried to think, wondering how much of what Gilbert had said would apply to her. Could she still be who she'd always been, even knowing what she did?

Hoping for an answer within the story's pages, Utena read until she couldn't hold her eyes open, then did her best to sleep.

* * *

The journey continued the following morning. A beaten dirt path led from Fiddler's Green down into a high-walled canyon, thorny vines rising up both sides, their spade-shaped leaves ridged all along their edges. Things stirred within the vines, rustling in the distance only to grow silent as Utena approached.

Sometime past midday, Utena took a break against a large boulder, leaning back upon it and staring up at the sky. From beneath, the thorned vines seemed different, and somehow familiar. She peered at the shape of the leaves, and suddenly realized–

"Roses," Utena said, and straightened quickly. She turned, looked to where Matthew sat atop the boulder. "I think she's close by!"

"You sure?" the raven asked. He looked around, his head darting back and forth. "I got no idea where we are. The chief changes things around a lot, but I can usually find my way around."

"But Anthy can change the Dreaming, can't she?" Utena asked, starting to smile.

Matthew bobbed his head. "I guess – I don't remember her, but everyone says she could." He scratched at the back of his head with a claw. "But I think the chief would notice if she dug out something like this."

"I guess so," Utena said. She hefted her pack higher up on her back, then started to stretch. If Anthy was close, she wouldn't wait. "But shouldn't he have felt her come back, if she came here?"

"Shoulda." Matthew hopped into the air, flapped a time or two, then resettled himself on Utena's shoulder. "But he didn't . . . hmm. What was that other name you called her, the long one?"

"Himemaya."

"And this Akio guy made her forget she was a dream. So if she still thought she wasn't a dream when she got here, but. . . . I don't know. Makes sense, but it's kinda over my head. You think she knew she could change things?"

Utena remembered last night's reading, when elephants had chased Nanami across a foreign land, then nodded. "She did." She continued walking.

The vines grew thicker along the canyon walls, until the red-brown stone was hardly visible. Utena found herself going deeper and deeper into the twisting canyon, the vines reaching out to each other and meeting overhead, blocking out the sunlight. When little but twilight remained, a familiar scent caught her attention.

Roses. The mixture of fragrances, the subtle differences . . . it was as though she stood in Ohtori's rose garden once more. Nothing bloomed on the thick, twisted vines, but the smell was unmistakable. So often the scent had reminded her of the past, and of her prince; now, only one person came to mind.

Anthy had to have been here. Would she be so lucky, Utena wondered, to find her here still?

Faint splashes of light came from ahead, and Utena ducked low as the vines wound and warped around the path, forcing her into an ever-smaller place. Matthew hopped off of her shoulder and flew ahead, and Utena heard him land not far away. The multicolored light cast strange shadows through the vines.

When Utena reached the source of the light, she paused, utterly unsure of what she'd found.

The rose vines must have sprung from this place, for a single great rose bush sat at the center of a hollow globe woven from the thorny tendrils; there was scarcely enough room for Utena to stand. The bush itself grew in a similar shape, a ragged circle crossed with more vines, roses of impossible colors sprouting all across it. Multicolored light filled and blossomed forth from the center of the circle, ever-shifting, dazzling and confusing to look upon.

Utena stood amazed for a moment, then stepped closer, reaching for the strange circle. Matthew's squawk startled her, and she paused.

"Bad idea!" the raven said, then flapped back up to her shoulder. "If that's what I think it is, then you don't want to touch that. Trust me. Very bad."

She forced herself to look away from the swirling colors. There was a pattern there, she was sure of it, along with tempting flashes of a shade of purple all too familiar. . . . "What is it?"

"Not what. Who." Matthew shuddered, fluffing out his feathers. "Let's get out of here. I think I get what happened to your friend, and believe me, you want the chief with you on this one."

Utena frowned, and gave Matthew a sidelong glance. "So who has Anthy?" she asked, suddenly wary. If someone else had tried to take her–

"Family."

She stepped back and blinked. "Family? Whose family?"

"Morpheus's." He looked at her with one eye, the colors from the rose bush shining reflected in it. "The youngest sister. Delirium."

* * *

Once she and Matthew returned to the castle, Utena went to the library first. There, she found Lucien and Merv, discussing what sounded like an addition to the library. She waited for a moment to interrupt. Matthew perched atop the stack of wood and bricks that filled Merv's wheelbarrow.

"Welcome back," Lucien said with a kind smile. "Did you enjoy your story? I have others, if it's not to your taste."

"I did, thanks," Utena said, and couldn't keep herself from smiling in return. She handed the book back to him. "I think I really needed to read that. There was a lot going on that I didn't know about, and it was kind of strange to read about my life like it was someone else."

"Least you got an interesting story," Merv muttered.

"Indeed she does, and I'm certain a few pages will be added once I return this to the shelves." Lucien flipped to the back of the book, fanned out a few blank pages, then closed the tome and looked at Utena. "If I may ask, did you find it helpful?"

Utena put a hand behind her head and looked up. Things had slowly come to make sense over the past few days, but how to explain? "It really did," she said, then tilted her head as she tried to think. "I wanted to be a prince because of someone I admired, but I started to realize when I was reading, it wasn't always about him. After a while, it was just who I wanted to be. It still is . . . I still have someone to be a prince for."

Merv puffed out a cloud of smoke, shrugged as though this was the most normal conversation in the world to have. "So you like bein' the prince. Good. Be the prince. Not everybody likes bein' what they gotta be. Me, I coulda been a painter or something, maybe in movies." He gestured with his cigar. "But someone's gotta keep this place goin', so that's me."

"I'm glad to hear of it," Lucien said with a deep nod. "There are too many who neglect stories as mere fictions, forgetting that there's much we can learn from them. I would like to discuss this further, but my master wishes to see you upon your return." He gave a light chuckle. "I don't think he'll be upset that you returned the book, but please, do not keep him waiting."

Utena nodded and thanked him again, then headed out with Matthew. Once they were in the hallway – pale stone again – she asked him, "Can we stop at my room first? I need to do something."

Matthew muttered something under his breath, but led her there, then waited atop a potted tree with softly glowing leaves for her return.

Once in her room, Utena went to the wardrobe. Her uniform hung there, cleaned and repaired, sitting as though waiting for her return. She took it out and held it up, as though seeing if it would still fit.

To be the prince. She nodded to herself. It still mattered.

Utena donned her uniform, then went to see the King of Dreams.

She and Matthew found him again in the throne room. What appeared to be a young man built like a centaur but with all human flesh and limbs and feet and smelling faintly of apples walked out as they entered, and Utena stared for a moment until Matthew nudged her. They approached the throne, stopped at the bottom of the staircase.

"You have returned," Morpheus said, sounding expectant, "and you have found something."

"I think Delirium's got her, chief," Matthew said. "There was some kind of glowing thing in the roses, really felt like her." He fluffed out his feathers again. "Made me nervous."

Utena frowned at him. "Did you know?"

"Not at all." Morpheus stood, then began descending the stairs, flames flickering in the shadows of his robe. "And this raises further questions. I presume you advised her not to touch, Matthew?"

Matthew nodded.

"Excellent. Your services will not be required for now, you may go." Morpheus came to stand next to Utena as Matthew flew away. "If you are prepared, we shall go to retrieve Anthy."

"Do you think she's in trouble?" Utena asked, then steeled herself for his answer.

"If she's in Delirium's realm," Morpheus said, "then it's for a reason. What my sister's reasoning may be, I know not and do not expect to understand. But I think we shall find her unharmed." He paused, stars flashing briefly in his eyes. "Without further harm than what has already been done."

The cold sense of being nowhere came again, and when it passed, they stood within the sphere of rose vines, which had grown large enough to accommodate them both. Morpheus looked at the glowing rose bush, his eyes half-closed.

"So you clung to the only solace you knew, Anthy," he said quietly, "and another who found solace in madness found you as well." He turned to Utena, and held out his hand. "Do not let go of me. Many become lost in Delirium's realm, and not all return."

Utena reached out and grasped his hand without hesitating. "Let's go." Anthy was waiting, she knew.

"Mind yourself, beyond the gate. Not all will be as it seems; likely nothing will. But I suspect you'll know when you find whom you seek."

Morpheus and Utena stepped into the impossible colors, into Delirium's mad realm.


	6. Chapter 5: A Shop Called Grasshopper

Objects of Desire: Chapter Five – A Shop Called Grasshopper

Akio sat at his desk when the familiar, demanding rush swept over him. He looked to the couches. Desire sat there, looking most displeased.

"Master," he whispered, and shot to his feet.

Desire's glare was demand enough, but it spoke anyway. "Kneel."

Akio fell to his knees, a shock of pain shivering through him as he hit the hard floor. His palms stung as they smacked the stone. "I didn't expect you," he said, his voice smooth and calm despite the pounding of his heart.

"You should have," Desire said, then hissed, "Crawl."

Akio slunk toward his creator, toward the only being he had ever known who could not only demand his submission but receive it. He let his shoulders shift from side to side, making himself as catlike as possible, the better to please those aspects of Desire.

They had both played this game before, with others and with each other.

Desire watched Akio crawl toward it, its lips pressed tight together, its yellow eyes hard and narrow. When Akio drew close enough, it slipped one pale foot from its tall leather boot, and held it out. "Lick."

Akio caressed Desire's foot between his fingertips, massaging slowly before tracing the tips of its toes with his tongue. "To what do I owe the honor?"

"You spoke to my brother." Desire considered clubbing him upside the head with its other foot, but waited. That could come later, if necessary. "He wanted one of your toys, didn't he?"

Akio gave a deep chuckle. "I have many toys," he said, then twirled his tongue around the ball of Desire's foot.

Desire scratched its toenails across his cheek. "That's not what I meant, you fool," it snapped. "He wanted Anthy."

"Ah." Akio leaned back on his heels. The windows slammed shut, casting the tower into darkness for a blink before the planetarium projector lit and filled the room with stars. His shirt fell open, exposing him in the artificial twilight.

"Many have wanted Anthy," he continued, a smile spreading across his face. "Myself included. I'm surprised you never had her."

"I like my prey to play." Desire hooked its booted foot around the back of Akio's neck, pulling him back down to its bare skin. "I didn't tell you to stop."

"Forgive me," Akio breathed, then traced kisses up the top of Desire's foot, trailing toward the ankle.

"There has to be something he wants," Desire mused, leaning back against the couch, its impeccably tailored red suit a stark contrast to the white cushions. "He has one of yours with him, doesn't he? The boyish girl you favored so much . . . the one who ruined you?"

Akio's attentions hesitated as he looked up at Desire, faint hints of hatred fighting through the lust in his eyes. "She did not," he whispered, "ruin me."

"Ah, but she ruined your game." Desire nudged his chin with its toes, prompting him to continue. "You had such fun with the dream girl. Even when you found another one, you didn't want to give Anthy up."

"The other one is self-centered, a foolish little thing." Akio licked all around Desire's ankle, nipping at the tender skin. "She will not do."

"So now no one will." Desire stared at its nails, as though bored, then leaned back and stretched. "And you have no one to play with. Such a shame."

"I had games before you brought her here," Akio protested. "I've never been short of toys to play with. And I will have her again." His fingers traced further up Desire's leg, and he took the hem of its pants between his teeth, lifting it ever so slightly.

"Oh, truly?"

Desire's smile was a razor-edged flash. When the light cleared, Akio found himself lounging atop the hood of the car Desire had gifted him with so long ago, the center of the planetarium cleared, stars still shining all around them. He was now clad in the uniform he wore when playing the prince, when he called himself End of the World. Desire itself stood nearby, behind a camera on a podium.

Akio tossed his loose hair back, traced his fingers over his chest as the uniform's top fell open. "Truly," he said. "This again? I thought you'd tired of pictures."

"You seemed to enjoy it so much during that last game, I thought I'd see what made it so special." Desire, still smiling, ducked behind the camera, and for a moment, Akio thought it would tell him to smile. Instead, Desire said only "Want."

Akio wanted, and posed, and the camera flashed again and again. "So that's all?" he asked after a few shots. "You came to remind me you're my master, merely because your brother stopped by seeking someone?"

"The day I have to remind you I'm your master, Akio, is the day you cease to exist." Desire flashed another picture, its shadows flickering behind it. "Never forget that."

"Never," Akio repeated. He closed his eyes, leaning back against the car's front seat, his legs kicked up on the dashboard.

A sudden shift in weight, and Akio realized that Desire now shared the car with him. The engine rumbled and throbbed.

Akio opened his eyes. The infinite roads that circled Ohtori, nothing but two lanes and never-ending rows of streetlights that only shined on one car, stretched out before them both. He leered at his master. Desire, the incarnation of wanting, wanted something from him.

In the seat beside him, Desire leaned up on one arm, the shirt of its red suit flapping open in the wind. Akio's eyes traced the curves of its pale flesh, then looked further, until Desire's eyes caught his own.

"Do not let him keep her, Akio," Desire whispered, its voice sharp and demanding. "Do whatever you must to get her back." It reached toward him, and scratched its nails down the center of his bare chest.

Akio's back arched involuntarily as he gasped for breath, his skin hot enough to burst into flame. "As you wish, master," he gasped. An order he had no trouble following, to be sure, but the telling made it so much easier to follow.

"And one last thing." Desire snatched the lapels of his shirt and pulled him close, its scent heady and overwhelming. When its lips were nearly to his, it whispered, "Bring Utena to me. I want to play with her."

The car's engine revved once, twice, and it sped on into the night.

* * *

All the colors of impossibility continued beyond the gate and formed something that might or might not have been a path depending on what day of the week it was, a path that fluttered and squealed in operatic voices as Utena and Morpheus stood upon it.

"Close your eyes if it helps," Morpheus said, his voice sounding oddly far away. "Do not go far from me, as you risk losing yourself." Behind him, a bright purple school bus floated through cloudy nothingness, thousands of seven-fingered hands inside it pulling down its windows and flapping themselves into the sky.

Utena's eyes sprang wide as she made a mostly futile attempt to take this all in. Nothing here was stable, all around changed and moved and stopped existing all in a row, sometimes all at once, only to reappear or reverse itself. She reached out and grabbed Morpheus's robe, fearing to speak for what might come out of her mouth.

Morpheus turned and began down the path, which had become a striped slide that spiraled downward and around to one side, walking atop one side of it even when it turned upside down and the eyes that blossomed along its edges looked like they would like nothing better than to throw him off. Utena stumbled, followed close, all the while wondering how Anthy had come here at all and what had happened to her since.

If this place was delirium, like Morpheus's realm was dreams, would there be anything of Anthy left when they found her?

"Umm," Utena began, her lips squirming across her face and trying to form words in a language she didn't know, "how are we supposed to find anyone here?"

Morpheus looked back at her. He hadn't changed at all. His stark black cloak and white skin sat alone in the realm of everchanging colors and shapes. "I will know," he said, then paused, stars floating across his eyes making it look like he was following something intently. "As for you, I would suggest you follow the roses." He raised a hand and pointed.

A single brightly glowing rose with star-studded petals spun in space, its stem long and thorny with a snapping, frothing fanged mouth at one end. Still holding fast to Morpheus's clothes, Utena leaned closer, then jerked back as the rose's end reached for her. Just before its gleaming teeth reached her skin, the mouth changed into an exaggerated pair of lips that kissed her finger with a loud smack.

The rose turned purple, and Utena managed a smile. This was the way.

She glanced down to the path, saw it bubbling and spitting out small frogs from tulips that sprouted down its center. The rose was away from the path. Utena looked to Morpheus and asked, "Can you find the next one?"

Without word or gesture, Morpheus floated, dragging Utena along with him, the two of them moving without means or method through the madness. Shimmering panels of solid colors flickered along beneath them, joining and coming together into an origami crane that snapped its long beak into a horde of tiny galaxies that spun themselves away in a panic. The next rose revealed itself beneath the pit of galaxies, softly spinning in the sudden darkness of space, two tiny lilac hawks orbiting its luminescent petals.

Utena's eyes widened, and she began to understand, as much as she thought she might ever be able to understand anything in this place. Anthy had to be here, she couldn't have lost herself and still left the roses.

The rose's stem twisted and grew and tied itself into three different knots, the end pointing down and slightly to the left, then the right as it spun in place. Utena looked ahead as Morpheus descended.

Something much like an island floated below, neon orange waves from nowhere crashing against its rocky shores, sending schools of crabs and zebras flying through the air and onto the island where they disappeared as the sand consumed them. The center of the island cracked and split and opened into a giant mint-green eye as they drew near, making Utena gasp and tighten her grip on Morpheus's robe.

She looked at him again, wondered how he could float through this and not even blink. Somehow he seemed . . . sad.

Two pine trees sprouted forth from the corners of the eye, their pointed peaks reaching up through a cloud of laughing sand as they grew and grew and grew and passed Morpheus and Utena both, spindly-legged fishes in their branches singing high-pitched squealing songs as they passed on by. Utena covered one ear with her free hand, felt her feet trying to become fins, shook off the change as well as she could.

"There."

Morpheus's single word brought her back to herself, and she looked.

A third rose, this one with petals of orange and green and blue and red and yellow all warring with each other, colors changing as one tried to overcome and another took up arms, its thorns long and slender and so sharp they cut the air around them, leaving long streaks of blood streaming out of nowhere.

The rose spun faster, the colors blurring into a grey melange as it drilled itself down into the eye at the center of the island. Fireworks burst forth and set the two pines aflame, setting the fish to screaming, and Utena and Morpheus slipped through the broken pupil and into heavy darkness.

Utena tried to take a deep breath and coughed up a glowing green mouse.

"Are you well?" Morpheus asked.

Utena watched the mouse run away, unable to see anything but it and herself and Morpheus. Nothing else seemed to exist. She swallowed hard, grogginess overcoming her. "I don't think so. . . ."

"I would have forewarned you," he said, "but anything I said would have been inadequate. Please endure, I believe we're growing closer."

Utena squeezed her eyes shut and hoped he was right.

When she opened her eyes again, she and Morpheus stood atop a mountain covered with blue snow, the fins of sharks and flying fish sticking up from the rolling hills nearby as they leaped and chased each other. An hourglass with the legs of a bodybuilder ran past, sand flowing up and down between the two halves at once. Utena put a hand over her stomach and searched, looking in all directions.

No roses.

She looked to Morpheus again, saw the frown on his pale face, and bit her lip. He would know where to go, wouldn't he? Or could he become lost here too–

The snow disappeared all at once, and the sharks and fish lay flapping on bare, dusty ground as cracks burst open. Light came forth from the new chasms, throwing itself high into the air. As Utena watched, the cracks came closer, the light coming from them turning red, then a deep, burnt orange.

"Ah . . . so that's what you've done," Morpheus said quietly, as though to himself. He sounded amused.

"What is it?" Utena asked, then yanked back a stray lock of her own hair as it tried to tie itself around her ear.

"It has been some time since I've seen her like this, but I believe my sister is feeling quite protective of Anthy," he said. "It's touching, in a way; I would not have expected it." He looked down at her. "I apologize, Utena. But I believe this is the only way to find her."

Before she had a chance to ask, Morpheus disappeared.

Utena's mind reeled as the ground continued to shake and crack and burst open. No. How was she supposed to find Anthy alone? And in a world or realm or whatever insanity this place was supposed to be that couldn't decide for itself what it wanted to be and–

The ground shattered and spun away below her and Utena fell into a slippery tunnel, the walls pulsing and squeezing all around her. She screamed, and dozens of mouths – her own echoed in reflection – opened along the walls and cooed at her, whispering strange platitudes in her voice.

Fighting back panic, Utena twisted herself around and headed headfirst down the soft-walled tunnel, squirming and hoping what felt like wings or extra legs growing from her back wasn't what was really happening. Faint light came from up ahead, a pale mixture of blue and pink that somehow contrasted and mixed well at the same time, and all of a sudden the tunnel was gone and Utena floated through a soft fog toward the rose.

This rose spun slowly, and its stem had no thorns. The fog around it cleared to reveal tall white pillars, all carved with rosebuds, buds that bloomed as Utena floated closer to the flower. The stone petals extended and held the rotating rose as Utena landed upon them.

Her legs shook, and Utena steeled herself; there was a strange comfort that came with finding something solid beneath her feet once more. She approached the rose, watched it shrink as she grew closer, until it was the size a normal rose should have been. The blue and pink of the petals slowly shifted and solidified, until the base of the petals were a blue that matched Utena's own eyes.

Utena plucked the rose from the air, and attached it to her breast pocket, as though she was about to duel. Somehow, it simply seemed right.

The stone rose petals beneath her feet smoothed over and shifted, and the pillars shattered and disappeared, revealing a cloudless blue sky all around.

Utena gasped. It could have been the dueling arena once again, without the gate where she had entered, without the crenellated castle walls all around. She glanced up, and scowled at what floated above.

A broken castle revolved above the arena, lights shattered and flickering all across it, the stone of its walls cracked and crumbling. A road circled it, dozens upon dozens of sleek red cars swerving and crashing into each other, filling the street and blurring into and through each other. Plumes of greasy lilac smoke spilled forth from the wrecks. As Utena watched, the cars leaped off of the road, driving through the air toward the center of the castle, slamming into and shattering the stone there, revealing a battered ballroom with a single throne at its center.

There, tiny and far away, a single dead rose lay on the throne's seat.

Utena walked to the very center of the arena, broken pieces of the cars falling all around her, trailing smoke and sludgy smells. She stood, looked up to the rose, and whispered familiar words.

"Grant me the power to revolutionize the world."

She soared upward all at once, the sky speeding past her, then twisted over once and landed upside-down on her feet by the ballroom's throne. With the arena now above her and twisted metal wreckage all around, Utena picked up the dead rose.

The rose's stem twisted and wound around her finger, and its petals grew lush and soft, and turned a brilliant pink. The rose became smaller, smaller, smaller until it matched her ring, a natural companion to the one she still wore.

A voice, shaky and insecure but somehow carrying a kind of terrible knowledge, came from somewhere nearby. "Oh, good."

Utena turned to look, and the castle faded away. She found herself in the middle of a field of endless roses, hundreds of red blooms as far as she could see. A burbling silver fountain sat in the center, nearby, and a woman with red hair in dozens of tiny braids sat there as well. She looked at Utena with one green eye and one blue, her smile lopsided but genuine.

"You found her. I was thinking you might not and hoping you would. She's not okay. I would I would know, I think."

Utena walked closer, slowly, and realized that for the first time since she'd come here, nothing had changed for several breaths. She looked closer at the woman, at her battered jacket and her white skin and her fishnet shirt and stockings, and knew.

"You're Delirium," Utena said softly.

"Most of the time," Delirium said. "I've had to be me for a while now because I don't think she would want me to not be." She tilted her head to one side, and her hair shifted colors, becoming a washed-out blonde.

"Anthy!" Utena rushed closer, fell to her knees at Delirium's side. "She's here? Morpheus said something, but he didn't tell me – where is she?"

Delirium raised her head and started looking around. "Big brother?"

A slight darkening to the air a few steps away, and Morpheus appeared. "Hello, Delirium."

"Oh please don't be mad at me." Delirium pulled her knees up to her chest, as though she was trying to hide. "I didn't mean to steal her. I mean, I didn't steal her. She felt so lost and scared, and I didn't think she was right. You know. Inside. So I pulled her through and she was okay. Mostly."

Morpheus nodded, looking as though he'd known this the entire time. "And you ensured none but the one Anthy wanted to see could find her. None other would know the signs or know what to say."

"I'm sorry," Delirium said, her voice small and shivery. "But I had to. Someone wants her back. I don't know who but she's scared and she doesn't want to go back so. I made sure. I could tell she's a dream but I didn't think it mattered because if you really wanted her back you'd come and get her but she didn't want you."

"My sister," Morpheus said, walking over to her, "I'm not mad at you."

Delirium raised her head. Her hair, fallen out of its braids, pushed itself back from where it hung around her face. "You're not?"

"I wish you had contacted me when you found one of my dreams," he continued, "but you've done no wrong. And by keeping her here, you may have done me a favor."

"Oh. Okay, good. I don't know if she's really yours anymore anyway. But she seemed like one of mine, and she had something like someone of Desire's on her, and maybe she is or was yours too." Delirium turned and crawled toward Utena, then stood and looked her in the eyes, standing very close.

Taking Utena's hand between hers, Delirium said, "But I think I see. She's yours. And you're hers. You're lucky. Not everybody gets to have that."

Utena smiled, unsure of how else to respond, then whispered, "Thank you."

"She is here, is she not, little sister?" Morpheus asked.

Delirium's mismatched eyes opened wide. "Oh! Oh. She's here, I didn't lose her. She's here."

The fountain in the center of the roses spun, water spraying upward and twisting into long vines, until they became two roses with their stems twined together. The fountain then disappeared in a cloud of feathers, and when they cleared. . . .

"Anthy," Utena gasped, and rushed to her side.

Anthy lay among the roses, her long pink dress torn and frayed along the edges, a battered white hat laying among the tangled mess of her purple hair. She didn't move. Utena shook her shoulder, then called her name, once, and again.

After a long moment, Anthy's eyes opened, red roses reflecting within them. She stirred, slowly, and raised her head. "Utena. . . ?"

"Anthy." Utena blinked, tears falling down her cheeks. "It's me, Anthy. I'm here. You're safe now."

Anthy raised one hand, reaching toward Utena, who clasped it between her own. A single tear fell from each of her green eyes, and Anthy let her breath out in a long, relieved sigh. She collapsed into Utena, who put her arms around her and held her close.

Morpheus looked down at the two of them. Whatever hold Akio had upon Anthy, it had not gone away – faded some, perhaps, enough for her to leave him, but it was still present. She still looked as Utena described her, not as she had when he created her.

"Come," he said after a moment. "We must return to the Dreaming. There is still much to be done."


	7. Chapter 6: Outside Eternity

Objects of Desire: Chapter Six – Outside Eternity

They reappeared in the throne room of the castle at the heart of the Dreaming, standing before the steps that led up to the high-backed throne. The colors of the stained-glass windows and sky overhead had faded to shades of grey, casting a bleak light over the room. The flames flickering in the edges of Morpheus's robes seemed to hold the only color to be seen.

Utena stood with one arm around Anthy's shoulders, supporting her; the other woman seemed hardly able to stand. She leaned, murmuring, her face strangely pale, her breaths quick and ragged. Utena looked at Morpheus, her questions clear on her face.

"She is not herself," Morpheus said. "Not completely. Akio's influence still lingers."

"But she left him," Utena protested. "Shouldn't that mean she's free of him? If she was able to go when he didn't want her to. . . ." She trailed off, looked at Anthy again. Her eyes were still closed.

"Would that it were that simple." Morpheus frowned, his lips pressing tightly together. "Anthy is a dream, and subject to influences differently than most mortals. The same could be said of you."

Utena steeled herself, and nodded for Morpheus to continue. Whatever came next, she knew she wouldn't like it, but if it could help them find out how to break Akio's hold over Anthy, then it would be worth any pain.

"It doesn't happen often, but when my siblings and I choose, we can exert an . . . unusual kind of influence on each others' domains, on the rules that bind us all." His frown deepened. "Not long enough ago, Desire toyed with mortals who were part of a recurring instance within the Dreaming. Its meddling could have torn apart my entire realm."

"What did it do?" Utena asked, her voice quiet and filled with awe. She'd seen siblings fight before, but for one of them to try to destroy the other . . . it was hard for her to grasp. She'd only seen part of the Dreaming, and she could tell that it was larger than she could ever know. What could happen to destroy the entire place?

Morpheus made an impatient gesture. "It's not important now," he said. He took a few steps closer, and looked closely at Anthy. After a moment, he reached out and touched the side of her face. "Anthy."

Anthy opened her eyes, slowly, as though she'd held them closed for a long time. Utena watched for any sign of recognition, for something that would show Anthy knew Morpheus in any way. Tears lingered in Anthy's eyes, and after a moment she closed her eyes again.

"You don't remember me, do you," Morpheus said. Whether he was angry or disappointed, Utena couldn't truly tell; perhaps both. When he spoke again, his voice had the same commanding tone he had used on Akio when they spoke at Ohtori, though it was softer, kinder. "Tell me what you remember."

"A road," Anthy whispered.

Utena nearly sagged with relief at hearing her voice again, after so long. The single word she'd spoken in Delirium's realm hadn't been enough.

"I remember a road. I remember someone taking me there, telling me that I wanted to be there. I remember wanting it I remember. . . ."

Anthy raised a trembling hand to her face, traced her fingers around her eyes as though searching for something. The glasses, Utena realized. What had Akio said – the glasses had been part of it, had been part of what made Anthy forget.

Utena gently covered Anthy's hand with her own and took it away from her face. Better for her to know, Utena thought, that she didn't wear the glasses anymore. She didn't have to forget, no one wanted her to. She could be who she was supposed to be.

"I remember years," Anthy continued, her voice loose and dazed. "I remember being the bride he wanted me to be. I remember duels, endless duels, all with a different victor over and over and different people until--"

She paused, and looked at Utena. Recognition swept across her features. "I remember you. I remember everything you said and did and why it was different. I remember leaving."

Anthy closed her eyes and leaned against Utena once more, her breathing steady, her color restored. She seemed to be at peace.

And maybe, Utena thought, that was enough.

Morpheus looked more agitated than before. "So you were stolen," he said, stars flaring and going out in the darkness of his eyes. "My sister-brother . . . took advantage of my absence in more ways than one, and took you for one of her own creations." He glanced at Utena, who did her best not to scowl. "I will settle this with Desire personally, at a later time. First, I must determine how to remove Akio's influence."

He placed one fingertip on the small mark on Anthy's forehead, his brows drawing together in what seemed to be an effort of will. The peaceful look fled from Anthy's face, and she clenched Utena's hand. She pulled away from Morpheus, shook her head quickly, once, twice. Her breathing quickened again.

"Do you remember being a dream now, Anthy?" Morpheus asked.

Anthy raised her free hand. She tensed, as though putting forth some kind of invisible effort, and a rose appeared in her palm, stars drifting across its jet-black petals. The rose floated forth from her, toward Morpheus, and attached itself to the front of his cloak, where the breast pocket would be.

Morpheus's frown softened. "I see."

Utena stared at Anthy, looked to Morpheus, then back at the other woman. "How did she do that?"

"As I said, Anthy has some limited influence over the Dreaming." Morpheus took the flower from his cloak and held it before himself, looking into it. "This is part of why we must remove Akio's hold upon her. If he controls her, and Desire controls him, then Desire has a hand in the Dreaming."

Morpheus clenched a fist, and the rose ceased to exist. "I will not allow this."

Utena nodded slowly. "I think I understand," she said. "What can I do?"

He gave her a considering look, though there was some kindness in it. It seemed, Utena thought, that he truly did care for his creations, even if he didn't often show it. "Help her to find herself again," he said. "She trusts you, that is clear. Do what you can.

"Now, you must excuse me; I have much to do. I will summon you both when there is news."

He raised his hand in a familiar gesture, and Utena held Anthy close as the strange cold enveloped them.

* * *

The two of them reappeared in Utena's room, standing before the fireplace. Flames burst to life among the stacked wood as they arrived. Utena loosened her hold on Anthy, and looked down at her. Anthy's eyes were still closed. Utena guided her over to the bed, and the two of them sat down.

"Anthy," Utena began. "It's all right. We're safe now, he can't get to you here."

Anthy opened her eyes. "Do you know?" she asked. She turned to Utena, a questioning look on her face. "How do you know?"

"I just . . . I thought, since this is his realm, Morpheus wouldn't let anyone he doesn't want in here." Utena fell silent. There was still so much she didn't know. "Isn't that true?"

"It should be. But he was gone for so long. I think." Anthy bowed her head, and folded her hands in her lap. "I don't know when Desire took me. I don't know how long I was in Ohtori. But it seemed like so many years."

Utena thought back to what Anthy had said a few minutes ago. She'd talked about many duels, about being the bride for many people, and how there'd been a different victor every time. What, she wondered, could that have been like? How could she have–

"He wants me back," Anthy whispered, her voice strained. "He wants me to come back to him."

Utena looked at her. Anthy's eyes were open wide now, her breathing growing ever faster, beads of sweat forming on her forehead. Her feet, dangling over the side of the bed, twitched as though they would take her somewhere without her permission.

Utena reached out and put her hands to the sides of Anthy's face, gently turned her, made herself the object of Anthy's gaze. "Anthy," she said, quiet but firm. "Look at me." Anthy's wide eyes met hers, the whites around the brilliant green clearly visible. "You're safe here, all right? Morpheus isn't going to let you leave."

Anthy held up her hand again, as she had when the rose appeared. Utena shook her head, then lowered one of her hands and placed it in Anthy's.

"I'm not going to let you go," Utena said. "No matter what happens." She watched Anthy's eyes, watched her expression go from fear to disbelief.

"How can you say that?" Anthy asked quietly. "After everything that happened . . . everything I did, all the lies I told you. . . ."

"Did you want to?" Utena asked, keeping her voice calm. She remembered this, or something much like it, the time she'd kept Anthy from throwing herself from the top of the tower at the center of Ohtori. They'd both said they'd lied, both said they'd used the other. In the end, it had brought them closer together, led to them promising not to leave the other's side when the time came.

It seemed like only days ago, and yet so much had changed since then.

Anthy said nothing, but half-closed her eyes, and looked down at her hand and Utena's. She clasped Utena's hand between both of her own, and lowered them to the bed, between the two of them.

"Sometimes," Anthy began, barely more than a whisper, "I remembered who I used to be." She toyed idly with Utena's fingers as she spoke.

"I don't know how I remembered, and I didn't know I was a dream, but I knew there were things I could do. So I . . . played, with people. People who'd hurt me, people who'd hurt you. I'd do things, so they would . . . so that strange things would happen to them, and they'd never know it was me."

Utena managed a small smile. "That explains a few things. I never really understood how some of that stuff happened." She paused. Maybe Anthy would know. "Akio kept us from remembering things, didn't he? He kept us from wondering about things that seemed strange."

"He did," Anthy said, still looking down at their hands. "It was easy for him, but he never stopped enjoying it. If something went wrong, or someone didn't go with his plans, they would just . . . go away, and everyone would forget about them. There'd be rumors for a few days, but not for long." She paused. "That was happening with you, when you disappeared."

"You knew I was gone?"

Anthy nodded.

Utena frowned, looked out the window at the stars passing by. "How did you get here before me if you left after me?"

"You might have drifted," Anthy said. "If you didn't know where you were going, you might have been nowhere for a while."

"And you came here right away." With her free hand, Utena pushed a few locks of wavy purple hair back from Anthy's face. "So maybe you led me here."

Anthy shook her head. "I don't remember. I don't even know how I came here. I just remember . . . I stepped past the gates, and I was lost, there was nothing there."

Utena remembered the image of Ohtori in Morpheus's scrying pool, the utter nothingness beyond the edges of the school. She shivered, and squeezed Anthy's hand. Looking at it had been disturbing enough, walking into it willingly must have been horrifying.

"I don't know how I came here," Anthy continued, her voice shaky. "There was something familiar, something calling me, but I couldn't know what it was. I found the forest, and when I started walking, the roses grew all around me. I don't remember anything else until Delirium found me.

"I should go back to her."

"No!" Utena exclaimed, before she could think anything else. "I know she kept you safe, but. . . ." She squeezed Anthy's hand again, bowed her head and leaned closer. "I don't want you to go away again."

"Utena," Anthy whispered.

Utena looked at her. She saw the fear in Anthy's eyes, naked and pure, heard the trembling in her voice. More than anything, Utena understood why it was so important for her to be the prince.

"I can't let him take you back," Anthy said, blinking back tears. "I can't. I'll go before I let you." She gestured with one hand, trailing streams of purple light. "I'll make it so you can't leave. Please don't make me do that."

"I'm not going back to him." Utena gave Anthy a firm look. "Morpheus took me back to Ohtori, before I started looking for you."

Anthy's mouth opened, slightly. "And you. . . ?"

"He told me everything," Utena said, looking down at her ring. "He told me that he made me, that he gave me the memories and the ring, that he was the prince all along. He made himself Dios, because he wanted to fall."

Anthy lowered her eyes again. "I remember Dios. Akio would . . . pretend to be him, for a while. Whenever he finished, he'd laugh for so long, mocking everyone who thought they were noble. He even made something like Dios, there in the tower, so he could have someone to feel like he was competing with him."

"I didn't know about that," Utena said quietly, "but it sounds like something he'd do." She paused, took a deep breath. "Anthy. I know Akio made me, I know there wasn't really a prince. But he made me what I need to be."

The look Anthy gave her was wary, hopeful but concerned that things might go badly again. Utena wondered how often Anthy had felt that way, with the dozens of people fighting for her over the years. Over time, she must have given up hope over and over only to find it again and have it dashed away once more.

Utena raised her hand, turned it so Anthy could see the ring. "Dios gave me this. Akio thought he'd make me want to be a prince so he could turn me into his princess. But he couldn't make me fall." She looked away for a moment as unpleasant memories intruded. "Not for long. Not for what he wanted."

They sat in silence for a moment. When Utena continued, she looked Anthy in the eye, making every word a promise.

"I know that I have to be the prince. For you. That's what this is all about, that's what the ring means to me now. I thought I'd be a prince so I could save princesses, but you're the one who needed saving the most. I still want to be your prince."

"Can you be?" Anthy asked.

Utena blinked. Not what she'd been expecting. "What do you mean?" she asked.

"He wants me back," Anthy said plainly. "He wants you back. You're the only one who's ever turned against him. Nobody else ever left, they just . . . disappeared. He was so angry with you, even before you left, he. . . ."

Anthy trailed off, tears threatening again. Before Utena could say anything, Anthy stood, and faced the window. She approached it and placed her hand flat against the glass. Utena stood and walked to Anthy's side. She started to say something, then froze, watching the changes take place.

On the other side of the glass, the pale stone of the castle outside reshaped itself, flowing outward to form a balcony. The stone rose and swept outward, rising into short pillars, shining in the starlight. When the change was complete, the window shimmered and became a doorway, the facets in its square glass panes catching and twisting the stars in their patterns.

Anthy pushed gently, and the door swung open. She walked out onto the balcony. Utena followed.

They stood out there for a long moment, long hair blowing gently in the breeze. Utena looked out across the Dreaming, at the myriad lands all washed white and blue by the moonlight. "What's it like to be a dream?" she asked.

"I don't remember," Anthy said absently. "Some things, some people, just . . . fragments." She walked to the rail and leaned forward, resting her elbows against the stone. "I remember seeing Morpheus for the first time, when he created me. He told me I was an experiment, a guess."

"A guess?" Utena asked.

"He guessed that a dream that could change the Dreaming would be interesting," she said. "I don't know if he was right."

Utena walked to her side. "I think he was," she said. "Lucien seemed to remember you pretty fondly."

"I don't remember him," Anthy said, shaking her head. She turned to Utena, a serious look on her face, the stars overhead reflecting in her eyes. "Utena. Do you remember, the last time we did this?"

Utena turned and faced her. "Of course." She leaned over, peering out over the edge. The ground seemed very, very far away; the road leading to the castle's gates was less than a finger's width to her, down past the myriad towers and keeps below. "Are you going to try to jump again?"

"I don't know." Anthy wrapped her arms around herself. "I can still feel him, Utena. He made me forget . . . he made me wear the glasses, so I would forget, and when he was sure I was his, he made me take them off and still . . . still be his. I don't--" She stopped when Utena put a hand on her shoulder.

"Anthy," Utena said. "He's not here. There's nothing he can do to you here. You took off the glasses when you left – you did it for yourself, right?" Utena watched her and hoped she was right.

Anthy nodded, barely. "I'd never done that before," she said quietly.

"That's why," Utena said with a smile, "I don't think you'll try to jump again. And I'll pull you back. As many times as it takes."

"Utena. . . ." Anthy placed one of her own hands over Utena's on her shoulder, her skin soft and warm. ". . . thank you."

They walked back into the castle room, and Utena shut the door behind them. Once it was closed, the balcony became part of the castle once again, only the patterns in the window's glass showing that anything had changed.

* * *

"Desire. I stand in my gallery and hold your sigil. I would speak with you. Now."

Morpheus knew Desire would hear his tone of voice and laugh. Such was Desire's way; threats were for lesser beings, as manipulation was so much easier and more enjoyable. But there were times for subtlety, and this was not one of those.

When Desire's voice came to him, it was somehow subdued, lacking the mockery he'd expected. "Why the demand, brother dear?"

"Show yourself here and I will explain," Morpheus said. It might have been easier to speak only through the sigils, but there were protocols to be observed, and the questions he had to ask would be easier asked looking Desire in the eye.

A sigh from the other side. "If you insist."

"I do."

A lazy cloud of smoke billowed forth from the heart sigil once again, and Desire stood there, clad all in black save for a bowtie so red it nearly shone with its own light. Desire's eyes held a similar shine.

"Speak, then, and make it quick," Desire said. "I've no time to waste with your accusations again."

"Akio has corrupted Anthy," Morpheus said, simple and flat. "You will undo this."

Desire stared at him for a moment, something between disbelief and amusement in its yellow eyes. After a moment, Desire said, "So, she's here." It paused. "To be honest, I expected to hear from you nearly a week ago. This couldn't be nearly as important as you make it seem if it took you so long to find her. Shouldn't you take better care of your own?"

"That means little coming from you, who take so little care with your own." If Morpheus was at all upset at Desire's words, his face showed nothing of it. "The time taken is unimportant, as it was necessary. What matters is that Anthy still suffers from Akio's influence. As his creator, it falls to you to remove his influence."

It shrugged. "No."

"You would defy me?" Morpheus asked, his voice falling to nearly a whisper.

"I," Desire said, stretching the word as it leaned forward slightly, "have nothing to do with this."

Morpheus frowned, stars flashing in his eyes. "You took Anthy from the Dreaming and gave her to Akio. You have everything to do with this."

"Is that what she told you?" Desire tilted its head a bit and gave Morpheus a pitying look. "And where did you find her?"

"Delirium had taken her to her realm," Morpheus said. "I don't see what that has to do with anything."

The laugh Morpheus had first expected came then, Desire clearly finding great mirth in the situation. "Honestly, dear brother. The girl went through Delirium's realm, spent who knows how much time there, and you expect her to remember what happened years ago?"

"My dreams cannot lie to me."

"It's not a lie if they think it's true," Desire fired back. It folded its arms across its chest. "Is that all?"

"Not at all." Morpheus frowned, and struck the same pose as Desire. "This is all irrelevant. I've asked you here to remove Akio's influence on Anthy. He is your creation and therefore your responsibility--"

"He's my creation and therefore his own being," Desire interrupted. "He does what he wants." It smirked. "It's incredibly freeing, you should try it sometime."

Morpheus looked at Desire as though from a great distance. "I have responsibilities," he said. "And one of those is caring for my own."

"You care about them?" Desire asked, the tone of its voice suggesting both surprise and doubt at once.

He scowled, and took a step toward Desire. "More than you could comprehend; do not suggest otherwise again. Now. Either remove Akio's corruption from Anthy, or leave. You've wasted enough of my time already."

Desire said nothing, but gave Morpheus a sly, sharp smile, and disappeared. He frowned at the metallic heart sigil once Desire was gone. That had gone about as expected, though not as well as he'd dared to hope.

It seemed he would have to take another approach, one considerably more difficult.

* * *

High atop the tower at the center of Ohtori, an envelope appeared from nowhere and fell toward Akio's desk. He caught sight of it before it landed, and snatched it up. The envelope's seal was a deep red wax, a heart stamped into it.

Akio slit the wax with a manicured fingernail, slowly opened the flap, let the unmistakable sense and scent of his master wash over him. Some of his students perfumed the messages of love they gave to others; Akio knew none could possibly have the same effect.

The note inside was brief, written in a pointed yet elegant hand. Akio read the message once, then again, to be sure he had read it correctly.

_Akio._

_Anthy is at Morpheus's castle. He called upon me, demanded that I undo your hold on her. He seems quite upset._

_I trust you'll come up with something to do about all this._

_Enjoy yourself._

Akio leaned back in his chair and laughed, kicked his feet up on the desk and reveled in the news. Anthy was found, and now, she would be his again. All it would take was a single note, a simple challenge.

And he even knew the right messenger.


	8. Chapter 7: Love is Not a Victory March

Objects of Desire: Chapter Seven – And Love is Not a Victory March

Despite what some thought, there was no set place in the Dreaming where Morpheus had to go to create or modify a dream. The shores of Nightmare were the appropriate place for that kind of creation, true; but as any dreamer and any dream knew, nightmares could come from anywhere. All dreams shared that in common.

Morpheus's workshop deep within the castle had been one of the first things he'd created, countless millennia ago, when he had first drawn the castle out of the chaos the Dreaming had once been. He stood there now, surrounded by all the implements of dreams, tools of warped but perfectly understandable logic, fleeting moments kept in silvery jars, and a dark web made of lost thoughts and half-forgotten memories hanging upon the western wall.

It was the web that held his attention today, as its myriad lines formed a kind of scrying mirror, with the strands acting as boundary to the image within. Anthy lay reflected among the web's lines, lost in sleep, the occasional sharp twitch marring the peaceful image she projected.

Something, Morpheus thought, had been done to her. Akio had taken not only her memories, but her will and her sense of self, turned her into the weak-minded doll he called the Rose Bride. And if Desire would not undo the change, then Morpheus would, regardless of how unpleasant it could be.

For he and Anthy alike.

He found no point in delaying the inevitable. Morpheus focused his will upon the strands of the web, calling upon it to see if who Anthy truly was still resided within her somewhere. He'd thought Utena's presence could help Anthy find herself again, but she was not helping quickly enough. Morpheus frowned at the thought of Akio having some influence upon the Dreaming. It simply would not do.

The strands of the web twisted, tightening against each other, and the image of Anthy within shifted. The bedcovers above her faded away and disappeared, followed by the pale lavender nightgown she wore. Morpheus inspected her for marks, for any sign of what Akio had done to her.

Not a one. Even the mark on her forehead remained intact, though smaller now. Morpheus suddenly remembered – Akio had worn a similar mark, likely all the better to convince Anthy that they were brother and sister. Such a devious being.

Seeing no signs, Morpheus delved deeper. The web's image stripped Anthy of her outer shell, of her human seeming, and lay bare the dreamstuff that made up her existence.

The stars in Morpheus's eyes dimmed at the sight. Worse, far worse, than he had imagined.

Most dreams held within themselves the basic shapes and ideas that summed up their existence. Viewing Lucien in the web's strands, for example, would show him to be wearing his suit within as he wore it without, and the spaces between filled with books. He was the librarian of the Dreaming, utterly and completely. Likewise, Merv's dreamstuff held smoke and vines and the strange mixture of complaint and dedication that so characterized his work.

It had been long, long years since Morpheus had created Anthy, but he remembered what composed her. Strange layers of mystery and charm, to make her the kind of being others would want to know although she never truly revealed herself. A will, a strong will and an enduring one, tempered with the knowledge that she was made with limitations. A strong will was necessary to influence the Dreaming; the limitations were necessary so that she could not influence it too much.

And finally, he had crowned her with something much like a star, something that held all the colors of the Dreaming, so that he would always know which form she took. She'd taken a human shape of her own will, given herself green eyes and purple hair and dark skin, and Morpheus had known then that the color of her hair was what would forevermore identify her, as herself and as part of his world.

How bright she had shone.

The star behind Anthy's eyes pulsed dim now, its light feeble and dull, bound all around by thin, thorned vines. The vines twisted even as Morpheus watched, sprouting forth from where her heart would be were she human. Thorned rings spiraled around the backs of her eyes, cutting tiny wounds.

All throughout Anthy, the vines wrapped around every part of her being. In some places, the vines showed small cuts and tears, all bleeding a lilac-colored sap; tiny places where Anthy's resistance had hurt Akio in one way or another. But they were not enough. If she had severed a vine, then perhaps there would be a chance.

Morpheus turned from the web, let its vision fade away until the dark strands showed only the stone wall between them. Too much, he thought; it was too much. Akio's corruption spread through Anthy too deeply for him to pull it out without destroying her.

If Desire would not undo it, then Akio himself must.

Morpheus left his laboratory, carefully closing all the doors behind him to ensure that none could find their way into it, by accident or by design. If there was a way to free Anthy, it was out of his hands. He scowled, deep lines forming in his pale flesh.

Of all his siblings, Desire was the least likely to mind its own business and leave the others alone. That being's tendencies had cost him before, both long ago and in the more recent past, and they would do so again. And again, and again, knowing Desire's ways; it never seemed to grow tired of finding new ways to toy with everyone.

It seemed that only one option remained.

Morpheus returned to his gallery, and stood before the frames, looking at each of the sigils in turn. He approached and drew one down, ran his fingers across it for a moment before asking a quiet question.

"My sister. I stand in your gallery, and I hold your sigil. Will you speak with me?"

* * *

The early morning light shined in through the glass window, beams falling across Utena's eyes and slowly waking her from sleep. She stirred, gently, not wanting to awaken Anthy.

Even after their conversation last night, Utena could tell, Anthy was not eager to go to sleep. The other woman had first insisted that she would sleep elsewhere, that she could make a room for herself, that she didn't have to be any inconvenience to Utena. But Utena had insisted that they sleep close. Just in case, she'd said.

Utena sighed at the thought. Just in case, she hadn't said, Anthy tried to go back to Akio.

She knew it shouldn't happen. But she wouldn't put it past Akio at all, or Desire, to find a way to reach Anthy and force her to return to Ohtori. Whatever hold Akio had on her, Morpheus hadn't removed it yet. So the chance was still there.

When Anthy finally lay down, Utena sat up to watch her, not saying anything, just looking at her in the dim light as the fire slowly died. So much had happened, she thought. So much in . . . less than two weeks? Even her journey across the Dreaming hadn't seemed to take so long, not with her goal firmly in mind and her destination one so worth reaching. But now, with Anthy finally at her side again, time seemed to slow to the point of hardly passing at all.

For a moment, Utena wondered if Anthy was doing that, then shook her head. It didn't seem like her.

She'd been able to tell that Anthy couldn't get to sleep at first. Her eyes stayed closed, mostly, but Utena caught the faint flickers of green and could tell that Anthy was pretending, likely for Utena's own sake. She then remembered, and reached out and put her hand on Anthy's shoulder, hoping to reassure her.

Slowly, Anthy's hand had raised to cover her own, and not long after, Anthy's breathing steadied and fell into the gentle rhythms of calm, restful sleep. Utena shifted herself to lay down without breaking the touch, and had eventually fallen asleep as well, drawing comfort from the warmth of the fire and Anthy's presence.

Now, Utena sat up in bed and stared out the window. Outside, warm light flowed over the land, casting the rolling hills and distant buildings into brighter colors, making all seem new again. She gave a lazy smile.

How could the sun rise in a world that was a dream? Why were there even days, and could they be any length Morpheus wanted? Why . . . why. For so long, she'd been unable to ask why, unless it was idle musing about the rules behind the duels or wondering things about her friends and the other duelists that weren't truly important. The truth behind that began to sink in, and she looked to Anthy.

How horrible it must have been, she thought, to not be able to ask why, to not be able to pull away from everything that hurt her. Years as Akio's prisoner . . . Utena shuddered at the thought. While reading her own story, Utena had learned so much, learned of everything that had gone on between Anthy and Akio when no one else was around – unless Akio wanted another to find out.

Put it away, Utena urged herself. Dwelling on the past would do no good. She knew what had happened, she knew the truth; all that mattered now was keeping Anthy safe.

As though able to hear her thoughts, Anthy gently stirred. Utena quickly looked away, back to the window, to the patterns in the glass that hadn't been there before last night. Now, with the sun shining through them, she realized what Anthy had done.

The base of the window showed an outline of the dueling forest, with the elevator rising above it, to the dueling arena at the very top. All along the sides stood silhouettes of the two of them, Utena dueling and Anthy watching, or them close to each other at those moments in their lives. The glass was a tiny collection of all their time together.

Near the top of the window, just beneath the tower, the image of Utena stood with her sword pointing at a tall, shadowy outline. Akio. Was that, Utena wondered, what this was all to be? Was this still the final duel, had it ever ended?

No.

Utena looked back to Anthy. No, she told herself. She'd won the duel. Battered and nearly broken, she'd found the strength to resist Akio and open the rose gate, and she'd found the coffin that held Anthy bound all those years. She had won.

All the same, she couldn't help thinking that all of this, everything that had happened since then, could be leading up to what would truly be one last duel. No matter what happened, she would fight for Anthy. It could not be any other way.

Utena suddenly realized that Anthy's eyes were open, and that she was watching her. "Good morning," she said quietly.

"Good morning, Utena," Anthy said. Her voice reminded Utena of the quiet moments they'd shared, talking late at night in the unusual bed in Akio's rooms at the top of the tower. There had always been a strange kind of honesty in Anthy's voice during those times, like she could speak without fear.

Utena smiled at hearing that voice again. "Did you sleep well?"

"I slept." A small smile drifted across Anthy's face, as though sleeping had been enough. "How do you feel?"

Utena drew her knees up close to her chest. "I don't know," she said after a moment. "I guess Morpheus is doing whatever he can to help you. I just wish there was more I could do."

"He'll find something," Anthy said, still sounding sleepy. She lay there for a quiet moment. "Maybe he already has."

Utena paused, blinked at her. "What do you mean?"

"He's coming."

A knock came from the door. Utena jumped, looked from the door to Anthy and back again. "Come in!" she managed.

The door opened, and Morpheus walked in. Once again, Utena couldn't tell what he was thinking – his face was set and stern, the lights in his eyes cold and hard, but what news he brought, she couldn't guess. He bowed his head to them both.

"I apologize for disturbing you so early. I trust you slept well?"

Utena nodded. Next to her, Anthy stirred, and leaned up on one arm, looking at Morpheus from behind a rise of bedcovers.

"I've spoken to my sister," Morpheus said. "The news I have is not kind, but it is for the best. Anthy--"

Morpheus froze for a second, looking distracted. Utena glanced at Anthy to see if she understood this, saw the other woman's eyes on Morpheus, not moving. She tried to fight off a sudden feeling that she was about to receive an unpleasant surprise.

"There is . . . a guest, at the front gates," Morpheus said, looking somehow confused. "Someone wishes to speak to us all." He glanced at the two of them. "Come."

* * *

They appeared just inside the castle's great gates. Anthy stood behind Utena, close enough to hide behind her shoulder, her wavy hair spilling nearly to the ground. Utena reached back and held out her hand. After a moment, Anthy took it, and Utena squeezed.

Whatever came of this, Utena reminded herself, she would fight.

Morpheus put his hand to the gates, and they swung open, letting in the early morning sun. Standing on the other side, looking weary and confused, was a girl Utena had not expected to see again.

"Wakaba?"

Wakaba's uniform was worn and tattered, torn across the poofy shoulders and along the edges of the skirt. Bruises dotted her legs, and she was missing one shoe. The dazed look in her eyes made Utena wonder if she even knew where she was.

"Do I . . . know you?" Wakaba asked, swaying slightly from side to side. "I just came to deliver a message. . . ."

"Then give it," Morpheus said, stern as ever.

"But you seem so familiar. . . ." Wakaba squinted at Utena, scrunching up her face as though trying hard to remember. That expression faded after a moment, and the dazed look returned.

"It's me, Wakaba," Utena said, stepping forward and holding out her free hand. She touched Wakaba's arm, and the girl flinched back.

"I'm just here to--" Wakaba's eyes opened wide, and when she spoke again, it was not her voice. "Hello, Utena."

"Akio," she hissed. "What do you want?"

Surprise crept across Wakaba's face, and she held a hand to her mouth. Her hand whipped down, as though of its own accord, and she spoke again, fear and shock clear in her eyes. "Mmm. What do you think I want?"

"You're here for a reason, aren't you?" Utena asked. She felt more than saw Anthy move behind her, as though trying to avoid attention.

"Tell her," Morpheus said, the sense of command behind his voice once more.

"I don't know – who are you?" Wakaba gasped in her own voice, high and full of panic. "What's happening--"

Her mouth shut, then Akio spoke through her once again. "You can't command me when I'm not there, Morpheus. But you needn't worry. I'm not here for you." Wakaba leaned forward, Akio's leer dark and unkind on her face. "I'm here for you both."

Wakaba then flushed red and jerked herself away, nearly falling backwards down the steps. She waved her arms, looking desperately embarrassed, tried to open lips that seemed stuck together.

Utena felt her heart lurch. Akio was doing this to torment her, she knew; it was truly like him to use her best friend against her. But she couldn't give in, couldn't let Akio see how much this hurt. She steeled herself, glared into Wakaba's eyes. "I'm not coming back to you. Neither is Anthy."

"Oh, you will," Akio's voice said, clear despite Wakaba's hands frantically trying to cover her mouth. "I have . . . a challenge for you both. You see, Utena, just like this girl, you're mine. And with all the time I had with Anthy . . . she's mine as well."

Utena felt Anthy's nails dig into the skin of her hand, felt Anthy's head on the back of her shoulder. This was it, she thought. This was what she'd promised Anthy she wouldn't let happen. She hadn't thought Akio would be this direct, but with them in the Dreaming and out of his reach, what else could he do?

"You are mistaken," Morpheus said, sounding somehow angry and bored at the same time. "Creation is not possession. You made the mistake of giving your creations wills of their own. Their loss is your own fault."

Wakaba gave Morpheus a glare full of venom, harsh and out of place on her friendly face. "I never gave Anthy free will," Akio's voice said. "She found it again for herself."

"Then you cannot call her your own," Morpheus said. "Learn the rules that come with creation before attempting to use them."

"Rules?" Wakaba threw her head back and laughed, long and mocking. Her voice and Akio's mixed, giving the laugh a dissonance that made Utena cringe. "I'm not in your realm, Morpheus. Your rules don't apply to me here." She turned to Utena, and took a step toward her, sliding close as though to embrace her.

"She always wanted this, you know," Akio whispered. "There's a reason she said she loved you."

Tears formed in Wakaba's eyes, her lips trembling. She shook her head, mouthed something Utena couldn't understand. All the while, her leg slid between Utena's, growing ever more intimate.

Utena looked her in the eye, hoping Akio could see her. "I don't believe you," she whispered back. "Stop doing this to her."

"The challenge is for you both," Akio said, then licked away one of Wakaba's tears that had fallen to the corner of her lips. "Come to me, and prove you have a right to exist, that you have the right to leave the one who made you what you are. Prove that you're not mine.

"Do this, and I will allow you both to live free."

Wakaba slid back, and stood at the castle threshold, hands folded before herself, looking calm and proper save for the tears streaked down her face, save for the redness around her eyes and her pale, blotched cheeks. "Do you accept?"

Fighting back tears, Utena stared. "How am I supposed to do that?"

"If you don't know. . . ." The smirk that grew on Wakaba's face was distinctly not her own, and the fear in her eyes made the expression warped and grievous. "Then maybe you're not as free as you think."

Morpheus held up one hand, his palm pressed to the air at the edge of the doorway. "Enough," he said. "My realm or yours, there are rules to offering any challenge. What time do they have to answer?"

"As long as they wish," Akio said. Wakaba didn't move. "I'll send someone by tomorrow to see if you've made up your mind."

"Fine," Utena spat. "But leave Wakaba out of this from now on."

Wakaba's lips pursed. "Oh. There's no need to worry about that. See you soon."

As Utena watched, a tiny square of cloth on Wakaba's tattered uniform disappeared – no. Utena's eyes widened, and she gasped. The cloth was gone but the part of Wakaba it covered was gone as well. A tiny part of her had ceased to exist.

"Wakaba!" Utena reached for her, and her hand slammed against an invisible wall. She glanced at Morpheus, who still held his hand raised.

"I will not allow Akio's further influence," he said. "She is not welcome here."

Another square disappeared, a part of Wakaba's leg, then the tip of her left ear. There was no blood, no sign of a wound, just pieces there one moment and gone the next. Wakaba stared at her, at Anthy, at the castle and all around herself. The dazed look on her face slowly changed to one of horrible recognition.

". . . Utena?" Wakaba whispered.

No, Utena thought. Akio had left her, was destroying her . . . and in Wakaba's last moments, he'd let her remember.

Pieces of Wakaba began to disappear faster, leaving her pocked with bloodless holes. Utena could see the morning light behind her.

"Wakaba!" she shouted, pounding both hands on the invisible barrier. She pressed her forehead to it, heedless of the tears forming in her eyes.

Wakaba screamed her name, over and over, as the last of her legs disappeared one bit at a time. She put her hands to the barrier, beat at it until she bled, until her hands disappeared as well.

Utena forced herself to turn away, glared at Morpheus. "Can't you do something?" she choked.

"No," Morpheus said quietly. "She is not mine to save."

When Utena looked back, all that remained was Wakaba's face, and she made herself watch as Wakaba's eyes, filled with a futile horror, disappeared piece by piece. Her last scream faded into the morning air, and she was gone, as though she had never been.

Utena collapsed to her knees, tears falling to the stone beneath her. So that was how it would be. That was what Akio could do to her, if he wanted. She felt Anthy next to her, hands on her shoulders, and tried to draw some comfort from that. But all she could see was the look on Wakaba's face through her last moments.

Once, Wakaba had told her that her mother had said she was the Onion Princess. She'd even found someone she had thought to be her prince. But in the end, Utena thought, Wakaba had been a princess she couldn't save.

"I am sorry for your loss," Morpheus said, his voice sounding like it came from far away. "And--"

"He's not going to stop, is he?" Utena asked Anthy. The other woman's eyes were open wide, fear clear on her face. "I thought – I thought if we got you away, he'd leave us alone."

"He won't," Anthy whispered. Her voice quivered. "If he wants you, he won't give up until you're his. It was like that . . . all the time."

Utena pulled Anthy close, trying not to think about all that Anthy suggested. Akio had wanted Anthy, and had spent years making her his own. She knew better than anyone what Akio was capable of. And now . . . the only way to free her, the only way to make sure they'd both be free, was to go back and face him one last time.

Steeling herself, Utena risked a glance at the open doorway. She'd had a faint hope that there would be some sign of Wakaba left behind, a scrap of cloth or maybe even her missing shoe, showing up here in search of its mate by some twist of what passed for logic in dreams. Nothing. That, she told herself, was who she was up against. Someone who could make her disappear completely, and if she lost his challenge. . . .

If she lost, she'd be his again, or she would cease to be. Utena took a deep breath. She couldn't let either of those happen.

Utena raised her head, still holding Anthy close, and looked at Morpheus, her mouth set in a frown. "I'll accept his challenge."

"That may not be necessary. I've spoken with my sister." Morpheus paused. Utena took a deep breath and waited. "The only way to remove Akio's influence on Anthy without his assistance is to kill him."

Anthy's shivering stopped. Utena felt the other woman shift, and start to pull away. She grasped for Anthy's hands, felt how cold they were, caught her before she could escape. "Anthy?"

"Could you?" Anthy whispered. It was unclear whom she asked.

Morpheus shook his head. "There are certain circumstances when I'm allowed to take a life. This is not one of them. Destroying one of my siblings' creations would cause problems as well."

"I need a sword," Utena said, hardly able to believe she'd said it. Could she kill him? If it meant her freedom, then . . . she had to. "Can you--"

"No!" Anthy cried, and wrenched herself free of Utena's grasp.

Utena quickly got to her feet as Anthy stumbled back. Anthy's hands covered her own face, her head shaking back and forth, tendrils of purple hair falling down all around her. Utena stepped toward her, then stumbled back as Anthy thrust a hand at her.

"Anthy!" Utena tried to rise, found that she couldn't move. "Anthy, please! I have to--"

"No." Anthy's voice was little more than a gasp, and she peered out from between her fingers, strands of hair falling across her face. "You don't understand. Once you're there again, he'll – he'll have you."

"He's given a challenge," Morpheus said, still calm. "He's bound by its rules."

Anthy shook her head again. When she spoke, her voice was stronger, but the fear was still clear. "Once you're there, he'll make you forget again," she said. "Whatever you wanted to say, you won't. You'll forget why you brought a sword." She shook again, then her breathing slowly became slower, more even. She stood up straight, raised her head, and let her hand fall to her side.

"You were the only one who cared enough to try to help me," Anthy said. "I won't forget that. And I can't let him make you forget too."

When Anthy spoke again, her voice was steady, determined if not calm. "Utena. I can't let you go back. And I know you won't go without me."

Utena nodded, started to say something, then froze. That look in Anthy's eyes – where had it come from? Where had she seen it before?

Anthy closed her eyes, bowed her head so that her hair fell over her face. When she raised her head again, the mark on her forehead had grown, larger and red, and as Utena watched, a teardrop-shaped drop of red grew from beneath it.

Utena gasped. The mark was the same as the one on the picture of Anthy in Lucien's book, in the census of dreams.

"Thank you, Utena," Anthy said, pain and love and fear in her eyes. "I hope we'll meet again someday."

Anthy dropped through the floor and was gone.

Suddenly able to move again, Utena threw herself at the place Anthy had been, fell to the floor, pounded on the stone, screamed out for Anthy. No. She'd been so close, she'd found her again – only another day or two, and they would have found a way to stop Akio, even if it'd meant. . . .

Utena whipped around and faced Morpheus. "Where is she?" she cried.

"She is. . . ." A confused look crossed Morpheus's face. "Anthy has thrown herself into the Dreaming. She's reaching for the waking world, though she's making her own way there. She is dreaming."

"She's dreaming?" Utena slowly got to her feet, wiped at her tears. "But I thought she was a dream."

Morpheus held out a hand to her. "Come."

* * *

The two of them stood once more in Morpheus's scrying chamber, the light from the pool at the center reflecting off of the black stone walls. Utena stared at the vision there in the water as she tried understand what it meant.

She was looking at herself but not herself, a short-haired girl with her name and voice clad in a stylized uniform of ruler-edged black and white. The not-her sat in a classroom with dozens of blackboards on cords, shifting back and forth, on an abstract Ohtori campus done in red and white and black, all the buildings angular and shifting about as though on rails.

"What is this?" Utena whispered, half-afraid of the answer. What had Anthy created?

"Her dream," Morpheus said. "Her wish, I would guess, of how she wants things to be."

Utena watched the dream-her cross the bizarre campus, watched her have a chilly and convoluted conversation with someone who seemed to be Touga but was far more kind and princely than he'd ever been. It seemed . . . they'd been together once, the dream-her and that Touga, and separated for some reason.

How could this be what Anthy wanted? Maybe . . . no. Utena put a hand to her mouth as she realized. This was the Touga as he'd wanted to be, the prince, stripped down to the core of what he wished he could be.

Then who, in the dream, was she?

Utena kept watching, saw her dream-self find the ring within a rose and ascend through the bizarre architecture to a garden of nothing but red roses, a raised diamond-shaped platform where Anthy stood, as she'd appeared in the book of dreams.

"Is that--" she began, then stopped when Morpheus put a finger to his lips.

A moment later, Utena began to understand why those of the Dreaming remembered Anthy so differently than she herself had. The Anthy in the vision was friendly, forward, even flirtatious, though that disappeared when Saionji appeared and challenged Utena to a duel.

Utena couldn't help smiling a bit at that. This Saionji was little more than a brute, a fierce boy who thought only with his sword. And then–

The dream-Utena's improvised sword broke, and Anthy threw herself at her, and they kissed.

"Anthy. . . ." Utena watched, her mouth partly open, as her dream-self drew the Sword of Dios from Anthy following their kiss, following her transformation and Anthy's as well. Was this . . . was this how Anthy saw her, was this what Anthy wanted from her? Did Anthy want to be with her as. . . .

She looked up at Morpheus, her questions clear on her face. He gave no answer, but gestured to the pool again, bidding her to continue watching. She did.

Anthy's dream continued. A scene after the duel, when Anthy came to Utena's room, made her feelings quite clear, as did a moonlit dance in the flooded rose garden some time later and a curiously intimate session of drawing each others' portraits. There was only one other duel, against Juri in full view of the rest of the school, which led to another revelation.

In Anthy's dream, she killed Akio herself, or caused him to commit suicide; the body lay hidden beneath Ohtori, uprooted for a Kanae who did nothing but cry. He seemed such a fool in his brief scene, and Utena had to wonder if Anthy was being at least a little vindictive.

It seemed well-deserved, and she smiled again.

The dream grew more and more abstract, and by the time it ended, Utena stood with her mouth open, watching Anthy drive a pink car that had been Utena's dream-self not long before down a twisting highway that led to the real world, dodging hundreds of black cars that seemed to be nearly everyone else from Ohtori. The castle appeared, as it had been above the arena, with dozens of crushing wheels, and Anthy somehow found the inspiration to make her way through safely.

Akio arrived again at the end, and together, Utena's dream-self and Anthy destroyed him, shattering him into a cloud of rose petals and nothing more.

The dream ended with Utena and Anthy in a lovers' embrace as they sped down the road on what was left of the car, and Utena looked again to Morpheus. "I don't understand," she whispered. "That's . . . what she wants?"

"Even in her dream, she wants to take you with her." Morpheus looked at her, a kind expression on his face. "She may be gone soon. Now, prince-girl, what would you do?"

Utena steadied herself and gave him her answer.


	9. Epilogue: The Beginning

Objects of Desire: Epilogue – The Beginning

High atop the tower at the center of Ohtori, an envelope appeared atop Akio's desk. He noticed it a moment later, having heard nothing. The envelope's seal was made of wax so dark it seemed to suck the light from the room, and the wax bore the symbol of a strange oval helm with what appeared to be a creature's spine trailing down from its center.

Akio's hand twitched as he picked up the envelope. The Dream King's seal. This could be an answer to his challenge . . . or something else. From what he knew of Morpheus, it could be something else entirely.

He gave a low chuckle. Life was never without risk. Akio cracked the seal and pulled out a thin piece of black paper, and read the message written in shining white ink.

_To Akio Ohtori:_

_Your offer of challenge is declined. Anthy and Utena both wish to have nothing further to do with you, and are under no obligation to speak to you again. I trust you will consider this matter settled, and will bother us no further._

_Regards,_

_Morpheus_

Akio crumpled the letter in his fist, the tense heat of sudden anger filling him. How dare he. . . ! Declining the challenge was the same thing as accepting the loss, so Anthy and Utena both should rightfully be his. He reached out, feeling for one of his creations and the one he'd spent so much time making his own–

Nothing. He felt nothing. Not a whisper of a presence, not a hint of where they'd been or where they were going. Once he'd known they were in the Dreaming, he'd been able to sense them, but now, they were gone.

Akio leaned back in his chair and stared up at the ceiling. His master was going to be most displeased.

* * *

"You cannot follow her," Morpheus said, and Utena bowed her head.

A moment later, she looked back up at him, determination in her eyes. "Why not?" she asked.

"You are in an . . . unusual state of being." Morpheus gave her a long look, considering. "You are not a dream, that much is clear, but I don't know if it would be appropriate to call you Akio's creation any longer. You simply exist."

"You didn't answer my question," Utena said, her expression unchanging. "You said Anthy's going to the waking world. Why can't I go after her?"

He frowned. "It's possible for a dream to inhabit a mortal, to overlay itself within a being's mind. I believe that's what Anthy intends, and by doing so, to hide from Akio. It would make her much more difficult to find."

"What happens to the person?" Utena asked.

"It depends." Morpheus gestured, and the scrying pool between them changed to a view of an enormous city, thousands of people and cars passing among buildings nearly tall enough to reach the sky. "Some change, some go insane. Some never realize that they have a passenger, some become something between who they were and who inhabits them. Most simply find themselves slightly different than they had been before."

Utena watched his face. By now, she could tell when there were things he wasn't saying. "But that wouldn't happen," she said slowly, "with a dream like Anthy, would it?"

"Most likely not," Morpheus said, "considering Anthy's gifts. Her ability to manipulate the Dreaming . . . I'm unsure if it would carry through to the waking world. She was never meant to go there.

"As for you," he continued, "I cannot be sure of what would happen were you to suddenly inhabit a mortal mind. Mortals' lives may be short, but I will not willingly inflict one with madness."

Utena thought back, briefly, to her time in Delirium's realm, and nodded. That was too much. "What if," she asked, "you put me in someone who wouldn't know? A baby, or something like that. So they could grow up with me – this all sounds so strange."

Morpheus gave her a contemplative look, stars swirling around the borders of his eyes. "That has some potential," he said. "You would not remember your former life."

Utena sighed. "I guess you're right. And if Anthy's going to the waking world now, then I'd be too young, and we'd probably never meet each other. But in her dream, she wanted to go to the real world so badly. . . ."

Morpheus shook his head, and reached into one of his deep sleeves. He withdrew a small sphere of crystal, which held an image of a road passing through a wrecked landscape, dirty clouds floating overhead. Utena looked more closely, and saw a tiny blur of mixed pink and purple. It was the end of Anthy's dream, with the two of them headed for the real world.

She looked at Morpheus, hope in her eyes.

"I feared Akio would find her if she fled too soon," he said, "so I've held her within her dream. If you wish, I will hold her until the time is right for her to find you again, and I will see to it that you know of what has been."

Utena swallowed past the sudden lump in her throat, and nodded. "Thank you," she managed.

"You will be in my debt," Morpheus said pointedly. "When the time comes, I will call upon you both to repay."

Somehow, Utena smiled at him. "I'll do it," she said. "We both will."

"Then give me your ring."

Utena looked down at the rose ring, then slowly pulled it off. She handed it to Morpheus, then stood watching him. She rubbed at the bare space on her finger. It seemed so strange to not wear the ring, even for a moment. Knowing she was taking it off for Anthy, however, made it all right.

Morpheus held the ring between his finger and thumb, tapped the rose seal against the crystal ball with Anthy's dream within it. The rose on the ring changed to pink crystal. He returned the sphere to his robe, then touched the ring to Utena's forehead.

"Be well, Utena Tenjou," he said. "You will have a second chance with the one you love, with the one who loves you. Not everyone gets that."

Before she had a chance to reply, Utena discorporated into a cloud of pink smoke, and slowly disappeared into the rose crystal on the ring. When she was gone, Morpheus manifested a chain around the ring, and hung it from his neck.

One final journey, he thought, and this business would be done.

He stepped out into the Dreaming, floated through the more stable areas until he reached a blurrier place, and found himself among the quietly gurgling dreams of newborns. Another step, and Morpheus stood unseen in a hospital nursery room.

He looked around at all the new life. Nearly three dozen babies, squirming or sleeping or laying at peace, attended by nurses with quiet, singsong voices. He walked among them for a moment, looking at the children and the names their parents had chosen for them, until he found a suitable one.

The child's name was typed onto the card as Katherine DuMonte, but just below that, a woman's hand had written in "Kara." A spirited parent, he thought, to give the girl a nickname at birth. She would find her child likewise spirited.

Morpheus touched the ring's crystal rose to the young one's forehead, and a faint shimmering passed into the girl's being. A flush of pink washed over her dusky skin and her mess of fine black hair, then was gone. The ring and the chain that held it disappeared.

The task done, Morpheus returned to the castle at the heart of the Dreaming, and entered the library. "Lucien."

Lucien appeared from between two of the rows of bookcases. "My lord?" he asked.

Morpheus sat himself in a chair before the fire. "Utena Tenjou has moved on from here. Bring me her story."

"Of course," Lucien said.

When Lucien returned, Morpheus took the book from him, and looked at the cover. The rose seal embossed there now sat below the book's new title: _Revolutionary Girl Utena_.

"Yes. This will do," Morpheus said, then stood and looked to Lucien. "See that I am not disturbed, Lucien," he said.

"I have dreamers to inspire."

* * *

Author's Note

First: my thanks for reading this story. To say it's been a long, strange trip would be an understatement, and it's not over yet, so I'm very glad for those of you who've come along for the ride.

The idea for this story first came from wondering about the similarities between Akio and Desire. They're a lot more alike than mere coincidence would allow for, and this got me thinking about what it would mean if Akio was one of Desire's creations, and what would happen because of that. I'm not sure where the idea of Anthy being a stolen dream came from, but it worked, and the rest was simply me running after a plot and putting down as much of it as I could.

In the end, I think everything works well, and working with both Gaiman's characters and those from RGU was a delight. Admittedly, the most difficult part was chapter five – the combination of the Akio-Desire scene and the trip into Delirium's realm meant that I had to go places I'd never been before as a writer. There are times when I'm simply glad I made it back. *grin* For the curious, the Desire-Akio scene was written with Muse's 'Supermassive Black Hole' on repeat, and the Delirium's realm scene was written with the help of a Mana Potion energy drink, which I will likely never drink again. Oi.

For those of you wondering about the second part of the trilogy, your wait will be a short one: it's already done and uploaded. Check my profile, it's titled 'By the Rose.' The few of you who read that story when I first wrote it several years ago will find some small changes if you decide to reread it; for those of you who haven't read it, well, I hope you enjoy it and that it defies your expectations.

Thank you again for reading. I hope you'll come along for the rest of the trip. It's only just begun.


End file.
